The Jean Descole
by Wigzard
Summary: You may think you know the story of Jean Descole, but do really know the real story of Jean Descole? The answer is you don't, unless you read this totally true novel. Packed with unnecessary action, unnecessary romance and necessary Descole, you'll wish you've never read anything else before The Jean Descole. There will be deslay.
1. The Baby Jean Descole

**I am here today to tell you about a man. A very great man, one whose name would be in every history book had he not been just a fictional character. Nevertheless, he's a very great guy. Come now, little fan fic dot netters. Grab a chair and your nearest favorite snack and listen to my story, the story of Jean Descole. By the way this is not just a fan fiction, it is totally canon. This shit is real, well, fictionally, but not _fan_ fictionally. This is the real fictional story of Jean Descole.**

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><p>"Wah wah wah!"<p>

"Somebody shut that baby up!"

That baby was Jean Descole.

Yes, we were all babies at one point. We don't remember it, but it happened. Scientists say babies can only see simple shapes and colors. Babies are like Kodak, their minds are still developing. You can take the Mona Lisa and shove it in a baby's face and it will think it's an orange.

Knowing this, the mean day care lady pulled the Mona Lisa out from her desk drawer and walked over to the baby Descole. She shoved the painting in his face, cackling like the witch of a woman she was.

"Mona Lisa!"

The day care lady dropped the Mona Lisa to the floor, shattering it to pieces. Did that baby really just recognize the work of Da Vinci? There had to be something wrong! Maybe this baby had never seen an orange before. And with that thought in mind, the day care lady ran to her desk, took an orange out of her lunch bag and brought it forth to the Descole baby, shoving it in his tiny baby face.

Descole grabbed the orange with his tiny baby hands that go so well with his tiny baby face.

"Orange!"

Before the day care lady could even gasp, Descole threw the orange at her face. The impact was so intense that the orange split in half and the citrusy fluids squirted into the day care lady's eyes. She was now blind.

"AHHHHH THIS BABY IS OUT OF CONTROL!"

Descole took this as an opportunity to get the fuck out of that dank day care. He jumped the gate from his crib and used his cape as a parachute, perfecting a landing almost as soft as his baby ass. His next goal was to make it up to that open window he had his eye on all morning. But how could he do that on his own? He was only a short baby person, after all. But then Descole remembered – he wasn't any ordinary short baby, he was a SCIENTIST BABY.

Baby Descole collected all the necessary toys he needed to build a time machine, even if that meant stealing them from the other babies. He drooled at the thought of making other babies cry. Unfortunately for him, there was only one toy he needed that was in use.

He crawled over to the baby playing with Thomas the tank engine. However, this was no ordinary Thomas.

"Excuse me, fellow baby. I see that you are playing with the flux capacitor to my time machine."

Another scientific fact that you may have heard before is that all babies can talk to each other telepathically.

"Young man," said the other baby, "I believe you are mistaken. You see, this is a replica of the popular children's television show character Thomas the tank engine, not the flux capacitor you are in search for."

"Yes it is, bitch!"

Descole grabbed the flux capacitor out of the other baby's hands and placed it in its proper spot. The other baby began to cry loudly, starting a chain reaction of babies crying.

"Yes! Let those sweet, sweaty tears of loss pour down your chocolate covered faces, you ugly ass babies! We shall meet again…IN THIRTY YEARS!"

And with that, Descole slammed the time machine door. Small beeps could be heard outside of the machine, and soon smoke was steaming from the cracks of the door. The ground began to shake, babies started shitting themselves, and then…. BOOM!

Neither the time machine nor baby Descole could be found.

The baby that Descole had robbed coughed and wiped the dust away from his face.

That baby was Hershel Layton.

"I'll never forget his face," said baby Layton.

"Shit, he's never going to forget my face!" Descole said as he stepped THIRTY YEARS INTO THE FUTURE.


	2. The 33 Year Old Jean Descole

**Well there's nothing that bums me out more than reading a really good fic only to find out that there's no second chapter. I don't want to bum anybody out. Ladies and gentlemen, chapter 2 of The Jean Descole.**

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><p>There was one problem with the time machine. Instead of reappearing in the same spot Descole had boarded the machine in that wretched nursery thirty years ago, the machine reappeared in a very, very bad place.<p>

"Ha ha! My parents are gonna be SO mad!" Descole snickered as he stepped out of the time machine – and into thin air. The time machine had reappeared at the very edge of a cliff, a 5,000 foot fall.

DA-DAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

As Descole plummeted to his death, he swore he saw his entire life flash through his eyes, though it wasn't much since he was just a baby after all. He remembered his first words ("Fuckin' FINALLY!") that he said the moment he was born into this world. He remembered his teddy bear, Monsieur Huggles, that he got for his first birthday. That year Descole has asked his parents for a Fisher-Price Mommy's Little Scientist play set. Upon unwrapping his present and realizing that his parents had disobeyed his wish, Descole threw a hissy fit and bit off Mr. Huggles' arm, then retreated to his room and locked the door. When his parents had left to buy their distraught son some ice cream, Descole ran out of his room and carefully picked up Mr. Huggles and his amputated arm. He began sowing him back together with a needle and string he found in his mother's drawers…He then remembered some of the other things he found in his mother's drawers. That memory didn't seem so, ahem, touching anymore.

DA-DAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

(He was still falling.)

Lastly, he remembered the boy whom he stole the Thomas the tank engine toy from. At the time he didn't realize it, but the boy had the sexiest eyes he had ever seen. They were unusually small and beady, like chocolate chips on a big, beautiful vanilla cookie face. He wanted a bite of that cookie.

_It is a shame_, Descole thought as he was just seconds away from his death. _I never got to tell him that I_-

DA-DAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-da?

Descole felt somebody's arms cradling his fragile stick body. He looked up to see the face of a really old guy with greenish gray hair. He smelled like unscented soap made from goat's milk. Kind of gross, but it was a comforting scent.

"Y-you…saved me!"

The old man nodded and smiled. (_Where the fuck are his eyes?_, Descole thought.) The old man began to speak, which sort of freaked Descole out because he couldn't see the man's mouth through his thick, green beard. Descole screamed a little.

"I was on my way to the store to buy more soap but I must have taken a wrong turn which brought me to this huge, dry canyon that you see around you now."

Descole looked around. "What the fuck?"

"I had just stepped out of my carriage to take in the scenery when I heard something shouting "DA DAAAAAA" in the sky. I looked up at what I first thought was a bundle of sticks falling from the sky, and then I saw those sticks begin to take the form of something almost human!"

"What are you talking about?" Descole was confused. "I'm only three years old – a baby! I'm not even a complete human yet!"

The old guy chuckled, or maybe he just swallowed some of his beard.

"What's so fucking funny?" Descole was getting kind of pissed off.

"Young sir, take a good look at yourself! That is not the body of a three year old!

"What are you, some kind of dried up fruit? And I'm not going to fall for something so stupi-WHOA!" Descole finally took notice of his new grown body. Somehow he had aged while he was in the time machine! His clothing, however, did not.

"Whoa! My dong is huge!"

In fact, the second Descole had stepped out of the time machine, all of his baby-sized clothes had torn off. All but his baby-sized purple cape, which was still wrapped (very tightly) around his neck, kind of like a half-assed scarf. Descole loved that baby-sized cape. Kind of like how a child treasures their "blankey", except this blankey was more of a fashion statement.

The old man could see that Descole was finally alert to both himself and his surroundings, and gently placed the almost completely nude French guy on his feet.

"Looks like we're gonna have to find you some new clothes! I have some spares in the back of my carriage. I've got plenty of them! Sometimes, uh, the carriage rides are a little long."

"You saved my life." Descole interrupted him. The old man began scratching the back of his head. (_I wonder how much lice can fit in that beard, _thought Descole.)

"Well, uh…Yes. Yes! I did!"

"Thank you."

These were two words Descole had never said to anybody ever before, only to himself. What was this feeling? Why did he think this old dude was so cool? Probably because he had a bitchin' beard, one that completely hid his face. A master of disguise. Descole liked that. In an unusual act of generosity, Descole asked the old man, "What can I do to thank you?"

"Well," the old man thought out loud, "I AM pretty lonely. My family has all but passed and nobody wants to be my friend."

Descole felt sad for the old man, another new feeling. _This guy is so fucking cool! Why wouldn't anybody want to be his friend?_

"Yes," the old man continued. "Some company WOULD be nice."

_A-ha! _Descole came up with a plan.

"As my way of saying thanks, I will hire you as my personal butler. Butler, what is your name?"

"R-Raymond," answered the old man.

"Ahh, Raymond. A fine name." Descole paused. "But I like Jonathan better. From now on you are Jonathan the butler."

"Anything you say, sir…"

Descole realized he had not introduced himself yet.

"I am Jean Descole, but you shall address me as 'Master.'"

"Yes, Master."

"Cool!" Descole smiled. "Now let's ditch this dry bitch. Take me to your – I'm sorry – _my_ home."

"Aye Master, but may I suggest we find you some clothes first?"

A laugh track plays.

"That wasn't fucking funny," says Descole.


	3. The Criminal Jean Descole

**"Round three. And they thought I wouldn't even go one round." - Snoop Dogg**

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><p><strong>PART 1<strong>  
>The carriage ride was very long and very boring. Few words were spoken, and when they were Descole would close the curtain separating his seat from Jonathan's. (Several times Descole would have to re-open the curtains and close them back again just to get the point across that he did not want to talk.)<p>

Now that he made his way into the future, where was he to go next? He needed money, and some clothes. Jonathan's spares were way too short, and his baby-sized cape wasn't keeping him warm. Soon night fell and Descole placed his small cape over his big junk and dozed off. Soon he was in dream land.

"What an absolutely splendid day! Why, I can even smell the freshly baked sun drifting through my window! Hello, sun!" Descole waved to the giant chocolate chip cookie sun through his window.

"Time to cook breakfast! OH WAIT!" Descole jokingly hit himself on the head. "I don't need to cook breakfast!" He took a huge bite off the wall and walked outside his gingerbread house.

"Ahh! Another delicious day in Cookie Land!" he sang as he took in the scenery. The cookie trees and the cookie dirt ground somehow seemed fresher than they did the night before.

"Mother Nature, world's greatest cook!" Descole howled with laughter from his own bad joke. He was not alone. The gingerbread people and even the animal crackers laughed with him. Descole wondered why animal crackers were called crackers when they were in fact cookies. He was about to ask them but noticed the time on his watch.

"Oh no! I'm going to be late for work!" He grabbed his Nutter Butter surfboard and jumped into the milk river.

_WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_

Descole did a hand stand on his surfboard.

"This is so fun! Nothing can ever go wrong in Cookie Land!"

All too suddenly, the air became very warm. Everything around him began to melt. The gingerbread people screamed and the animal crackers turned savage and ate each other.

Descole covered his eyes with his hands and screamed. "Oh God, make it stop!"  
>A distorted voice echoed through the sky. Distorted, but familiar.<p>

_I'LL NEVER FORGET HIS FAAAAAAAACE!_

"Oh shit!"

He looked around himself, and then up at the sky. The sun was now the face of that sexy baby from the day care. It looked at Descole intensely, its chocolate chip eyes now in flames.

_I'LL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE, JEAN DESCOLE!_

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

Descole awoke in a state of crazy French guy, jumping forward and bumping his head.

"FUCK me, that hurt."

"Are you okay back there, Master?" Jonathan turned around to face Descole, curtains still closed. "These curtains and my eyebrows may be blocking my view, but I can still see that nasty bump on your head!"

"Fuck you, it's just a beauty mark," Descole snapped back, rubbing his head. "Say, how much longer until we reach my castle? No offense but this carriage sucks."

Jonathan shook his head. "I don't know why you keep calling it a castle."

"Because castles are cool."

"Well, Master," Jonathan laughed (or maybe swallowed some of his beard again), "you woke up just in time. We have arrived to our –

"My."

"We've arrived to YOUR home!"

"Gee, how convenient to this story's plot!"

Descole couldn't wait to get out of that carriage. "CASTLE DESCOLE HERE I…" He fumbled with the door, trying with all his strength to open it. "How the…grrr…fuck do…hnrgh…carriages even work? J-JONATHAN!"

"Coming, Master."

And as gentle and formal as can be, the old butler opened the passenger door for his sexy master.

"WOO HOO!" Descole ran out of the carriage with his arms high above his head. "This is gonna be so sweet I can't waaaaa-What the. Fuck?"

Jonathan's home was in fact, not a castle. It was instead an out house built on top of a tree.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me, " Descole snarled. "JONATHAN!"

"Is there a problem, Master?"

"Yeah, there's a problem. My house is a fucking tree."

Jonathan chuckled. "Master, has anybody ever told you to not judge a book by its cover? Come, have a look inside! But uh, you'll have to climb your way up because my ladder was stolen by a pack of wild beavers. I'm lucky they only stole my ladder and not my legs!"

"Well, okay." Descole got his hopes up again. Maybe it really was a castle on the inside. After 72 tries he climbed his way up the tree and onto the branch that supported the house. Jonathan searched his pockets for the key, but then realized he didn't need to use the key because the beavers stole his door knob while he was away. Instead, he lightly pushed the door open.

"Welcome home, Master!"

Descole walked into the house. Nope, it was not a castle.

"I don't know why I fell for your stupid book trick, Jonathan. This is the shittiest house I've ever seen. Where's the refrigerator? Where's the bed? All I see is a toilet."

"I-..I'm sorry, Master."

"No kid would even dare to call this a tree house. What the fuck are you, a gnome? The beavers should have just done you a favor and took the whole damn thing away." Descole looked back at Jonathan. "Hey Jonathan, you've got something in your beard."

"Those are my tears, Master."

"Your…tears?" Descole was confused. Three long years and he's only ever seen babies cry. "Jonathan, are you a baby too?"

"No, Master, I am not a baby. I am crying because you hurt my feelings."

"Bull shit! I never even layed a hand on you! Wait…What are feelings?"

"Feelings, " Jonathan began to explain, "are what you have on the inside." The old man sat down on the branch, signaling for Descole to join him. Descole sat next to him.

"You mean like, intestines and stuff?"

"No, Master, they're way, way past your intestines. They're so inside of you that you can't even see them. Feelings are what make us human."

Descole thought about that for a moment. "I'm sorry for hurting your insides, Jonathan." He had never apologized to anybody before.

Jonathan wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry this house isn't as cool as a castle."  
>"It's all right," Descole lied. It wasn't all right, it was shit. But he had a new plan.<p>

"Hey Jonathan, I've got a new plan."

"What's that, Master?"

"Let's rob a bank. That way we'll have enough money to buy a castle and some nice clothes!"

Jonathan wasn't too sure about this plan. "I've never robbed a bank before."

"Neither have I, but I heard it's really easy if you have a gun."

"I have a few guns hidden underneath the floorboards. I have them to defend myself against the beavers. I'll be right back!"

Jonathan ran inside the house and came back with two large assault rifles.

"SWEET!" Descole fist pumped. "Let's go rob a bank!" He jumped back on his feet but fell from the tree.

_DA-DAAAAAAAAAAAA!_

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><p><strong>PART 2<strong>

They parked the carriage outside one of London's bigger banks. Throughout the whole carriage ride, Jonathan tried convincing Descole that it'd be easier and smarter of them to rob a smaller bank, but Descole really wanted that castle, and castles don't come from robbing small banks.

"Okay Jonathan, here's the deal. Each of us carries a gun. Your job is to yell shit like, 'I'M GONNA SHOOT! I'M GONNA SHOOT!' while I force whoever's at the desk to put the money in the bag. Now there's no way any of this can go wrong because I thought it over like, five times in my head. Are you ready to do this, Jonathan?"

"Aye, Master."

"Oh, crap! I totally forgot!" Descole smacked himself in the face. "If we're gonna rob a bank we're gonna need some disguises! JONATHAN!"

"I'm right here, Master."

"There you are! Go run over to that trash can and find something we can use to cover our faces with."

"Of course." Jonathan calmly walked to the trash can, very calm for somebody who was about to rob a bank. He came back to the carriage with two pieces of crumbled up paper. Descole took both the pieces of paper and made two masks. He gave one to Jonathan and put the other over his eyes.

"This is gonna be so cool," Descole giggled.

"Wait! Master!"

"Yeah Jonathan?"

"I-I've made something for you." Jonathan climbed back to the front seat and grabbed a bottle he had sitting on the floor. He handed it to Descole. "Please, drink this."

Descole would have barked at Jonathan for giving his own master orders, but he was in a good mood, and very thirsty. He brought the bottle to his mouth and drank up.

"…..Delicious!" He wiped his mouth. "Jonathan, what is this stuff?"

"I call it 'Go Go Juice', Master. It's a little something I came up with a long time ago but never got to share with anybody. Don't worry, it's not urine. Just Mountain Dew and Red Bull. It's supposed to get you pumped up."

"This Go Go Juice is the shizzle. Now let's do this bitch!"

Masks on face and guns in hand, the odd two-man team ran up to the glass doors. Descole, still completely nude, shot through the glass and made an entrance. They made their way inside the bank.

"Big up! Big up! It's a stick up! Stick up!" yelled Descole, firing shots at the ceiling. Everybody screamed, then put their hands over their heads and crouched onto the floor. "Shit, that was easy."

Descole ran up to one of the front desks. Jonathan just stood there.

"Excuse me, miss." Descole said to the lady working at the desk. "Care to dump all your money into this bag?"

"I'm very sorry sir, but all the money is in the vault in the back. Care to know the combination?"

"If you wouldn't mind, miss."

The lady smiled and wrote the combination on the back of a check. She handed it over to Descole.

"Okay, cool! Yo, Jonathan! I'm gonna be in the back, so just sit tight for a few minutes!"

"Aye, Master." Jonathan sat down on the floor.

Descole made his way to the back of the bank. He couldn't believe how freaking easy it was to rob a bank. He felt like a character in a story by an author who doesn't know a thing about how banks work. He stood in front of the vault and played around with the combination lock. "Numbers are hard, " he said. Finally, he got the vault door to nudge open. Just beyond that door is his castle in paper form! With all his might, he pulled the door open and

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

A loud roar could be heard from the back. Jonathan stood back up. Something was wrong, very wrong. "That's not how money sounds," said Jonathan.

Descole stood face to face with a giant, prehistoric beast. Around its neck was a studded collar with its name printed on it. LOOSHA.

"That lady set me up! The money was in the front the whole time!"

The lady at the desk cackled maniacally. Jonathan ran over to the desk and ordered the lady to hand over the money while shots could be heard from the back.

"DIE, BITCH, DIE!"

Descole shot at the beast over and over again, but the shots didn't do very much harm. The monster stretched its long neck and smacked Descole with it, throwing him up against the wall. He dropped his gun, and the beast picked it up with its mouth and bit the gun in half. It looked back at Descole, snarling its sharp and pointy teeth. It opened its mouth wide. It was in the mood for a French dude meal.

_Of all the banks in London, I picked the one with the fucking dinosaur!_

The beast charged at Descole with its mouth open, but Jonathan ran into the room just in time. BANG! BANG! Jonathan shot the beast in the back of the head, getting its attention. Loosha turned around and faced the old man, an easier meal. As the dinosaur cornered Jonathan, Descole flipped in the air and landed on top of Loosha's head. He started punching its eyes.

"JONATHAN! Get the bags in the carriage and I'll meet you outside!"

"Yes, Master!" Jonathan hated leaving Descole behind, but he was not one to disobey his master. He grabbed the bags of money and ran to the carriage. The cops would be there any second now.

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE YOU PREHISTORIC BITCH?"

After punching the crap out of Loosha, Descole jumped off its head and ran out the main entrance to meet up with Jonathan. He looked back in fear that the giant beast would be on his tail. No, he was good, but while he wasn't looking, Descole ran into a bystander. He and the bystander toppled over and into a fountain. Descole was now on top of the bystander and…No, It can't be!

There was no mistaking it. Descole was looking back into those sexy dot eyes he once stared at so longingly…thirty years ago. He was no longer a sexy baby, but a very sexy gentleman, as proved by the top hat he was wearing.

_Fuck! What do I say? Do I tell him I'm sorry for stealing his toy to use for my time machine? Do I tell him how deeply in love I am with him? Do I tell him his eyes give me boners?_

Hershel Layton, the gentleman with the top hat, looked up at the face of the masked man, then slowly down his naked and wet body. Dot eyes on the prize.

Descole hadn't realized until now that his hand had made its way through Layton's orange turtle neck and onto his left nipple.

Layton looked back down at Descole's bulge. "I…I've never been with a man before."

Everything was happening too fast, but at the same time everything was happening too slowly. Descole completely forgot he had a bank robbery to finish.

"I have to go!" Descole took his hand out of Layton's shirt and got back on his feet.

"Wait!"

Descole turned around. Layton took out a pen and piece of paper. He handed it to Descole.

"Come visit me tonight. Oh, and by the way, cute mask." Layton winked seductively.

Descole could hear the sirens behind him. He nodded to Layton, and ran off to catch his ride. _I can't believe it! He wants me inside him!_

"Who was that, Professor?" A small boy wearing a blue fitted cap walked over to the fountain.

"I'm getting laid tonight, Luke."

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><p><strong><em>Later that day...<em>**

"I'm terribly sorry sir, but we've already been robbed once today!"

"Damnit!"

A very fat man in a fancy suit slammed his fist on the counter.

"By who?"

The lady at the desk laughed, but remembered who she was dealing with and serioused her tone. "I'm sorry, it's just…We were robbed by a naked guy."

"Very well. Thank you for your time."

The fat man walked over to his colleagues, all dressed in black. He lit up a cigar.

"Find me that naked man."


	4. The Lover Jean Descole

**Thank you for being so patient with this story. The truth is, I probably never would have kept writing it if it weren't for people wanting to read more. Thanks for the inspiration. Give yourselves a pat on the back. I hope this slashy chapter lives up to your expectations and more. And yes I know there aren't any Jack in the Boxes in the UK and yes I know you can't buy men's suits and capes at Forever 21.**

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><p><strong>PART 1<strong>

Descole and Jonathan peeked their heads out from behind a fake tree.

"Is the Pacific Coast clear?"

"We've lost them, master."

The bank robbery was a hair away from not being a success, but it was still a success. Those dumbass cops were no match to Jonathan's carriage driving skills. The money, minus a few spending pounds, waited inside the carriage parked in a mall lot. It was clothing shopping time.

"Look out for mall cops," Jonathan warned.

"Mall cops? Ha!" Descole snarked. "I may be a three year-old thirty year-old, but even I know that mall cops are only a myth!"

"But they ARE real, Master, and they will stop at absolutely nothing to fine you for doing absolutely nothing! They-"

Descole put his hand over the butler's beard and laughed flamboyantly sarcastically.

"HA HA HA! Come on, Jonathan, let's go to Forever 21."

He tried pulling Jonathan's arm but slipped and face-planted onto the floor.

"Someday I'll be stronger!"

(This is the part when you imagine a laugh track.)

Upon entering Forever 21, Descole and Jonathan were greeted with gasps and screams.

_"Where are his clothes?!"_

_"Think of the children!"_

_"My eyes!"_

Descole grunted. _Mall people. Why do you think I'm in a fucking clothing store?_

"Maybe we should find a new store," Jonathan suggested. "Perhaps a Forever 22?"

"NO! I will not let these SKANKS ruin our perfectly good shopping experience! Watch this."

With no time for this bullshit, Descole made his way to the cashier. Each step he took forward, the mall people would take a step back, as if naked was a disease you could catch.

"Move it, lady."

The woman working at the cash register threw her arms in the air as a sign of surrender and moved out of the way. Descole picked up the phone. His over-exaggerated nasally, bitchy, villainous voice boomed over the loud speaker. But remember friends, Jean Descole is not our story's villain.

"JONATHAN! Is this thing on?"

Jonathan gave a thumbs up. Descole did not know what that meant and looked at the ceiling.

"Okaaaaaaay, thanks for the waste of time, Jonathan! ANYWAY."

His voice serioused.

"Look at you people, with your daddy's credit cards and your bug boots and your stupid perfectly straight hair. Life must be so fucking easy for all of you."

Everybody nodded.

"Well guess what? Mine fucking isn't. I just came back from slaying a dinosaur, for Christ's sake."

"You did that for our Lord and savior?" one of the customers asked.

"Yes that's exactly why I did it. Did you know that Jesus was half naked all the time? We were all naked at one point, which means we all had to shop for clothes while still being naked. Underneath our clothes, we are all the same, except I think I'm the only shopper here with a penis. Stop gawking at my handsome physique and let me shop in peace. And if you don't like it..."

Descole jumped on top of the counter.

"Take a picture so it will to be last longer!"

A roar of applause carried out along the store. Jonathan wiped a tear from his eye and fist pumped a proud one.

The cashier said, "Put the phone down or I'm calling for the mall cops."

"NO SHIT OKAY I'M GOING!"

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><p>A sleek dark blue suit with white cuffs, a black tie and swanky pointed-toe shoes, the look of a powerful man. But powerful wasn't enough. With a new cape and mask and a weird fucked up kind of sombrero cowboy hat with puppy dog ears, he looked mysterious, but even mysterious wasn't enough. There had to be something tacky enough to kick off the rest of his ridiculous outfit. Something cozy, something fabulous, something<p>

"Boa."

Descole fixed his white feathered boa in the mirror. He smiled back at the fancy man he saw before himself.

_I hope the man with the eyes I so long for likes my boa!_

"Master, are you almost done looking at yourself?"

"Oh, it's you." Descole spun around. "What do you think, Jonathan?"

"You look swingin'."

Descole made a disgusted face.

"Never say that again. Oops! I almost forgot!"

Descole stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his baby cape, the one that helped him escape from that wretched nursery thirty years ago. Taking off his boa for JUST ONE SECOND, he wrapped his baby cape over his new one.

"This symbolizes a baby changing into a man."

I'm proud of you, master."

"Me too, Jonathan." Descole sniffed back his tears and went back to admiring himself in the mirror. "Say, why are there so many mirrors in this place anyway?"

"This is a library. They put up these mirrors so that it will look like they have more books."

"Ew. So where is this special friend of yours? I want my fucking castle, Jonathan."

"This way, master!"

During the carriage ride from the mall to the library, Jonathan told Descole of an old friend who could help them find a castle for cheap, which kind of made the whole bank robbery thing a bit pointless, but it was a good chapter, right? Whether this friend worked, visited or lived in the library, this was not specified, only that his name was Craig and that he had a "good connection."

"Jonathan, I don't know what that thing is, but it's definitely not a person."

They sat down in front of a weird looking television.

"This is the only way I know how to get in touch with Craig. All I have to do is touch the mouse and move it like this…"

"Why do they call it a mouse?" Descole asked, very interested in this new technology.

"That's the thing. Nobody knows why it's called that!"

"Hmm." Descole was very VERY interested. "Go on."

"Now I play with the alphabet piano here and…"

_CLICK!_

Descole squinted his eyes. "Craigs…list? Is this Craig's list of castles?"

"Master, look!"

Jonathan had already found something.

**_Castle for sale._**

**_I just found out I'm not a vampire so I won't be needing this castle anymore. There's no address but it's in the woods somewhere._**

"It looks like we've got a carriage adventure into the woods!"

"Yeah, about the 'we' part…"

Descole pulled out the wrinkled note that sexy baby eyes Hershel Layton had handed to him earlier that morning in front of the bank. He passed it to the butler. Descole had not yet informed Jonathan of his booty call until now.

"I'm going to need a ride to this exact location. You'll have to find my castle on your own and pick me up in the morning. Now please hurry. It's getting late and I'm getting laid."

Jonathan revved up the carriage

* * *

><p><strong>PART 2<strong>

There, in the brisk evening light, stood Descole, outside of his date's quaint London home. It was a small and well cared for building on a seemingly friendly street.

Descole noticed a lovely garden next door and quickly picked all the flowers and turned them into a bouquet. Then, fluffing up his boa like a bird would do as in its mating dance, he rang the doorbell…

…but it wasn't a doorbell. It was a puzzle.

"Fuck this, I don't have time for this shit," Descole said and jumped through the window.

Surprised, Hershel Layton dropped his cup of tea onto the floor.

"Uhh, your puzzle's broken," Descole said as he handed the bouquet to the other man. Layton fluttered his tiny little eyes. It was like watching fire flies twinkling in a giant eraser-shaped field.

_God, if he does that again I'm going to explode!_

"My apologies," spoke the eraser head, "but I did not recognize you with your clothes on, until I noticed your hot mask."

Descole shrugged.

"My name is Hershel, but you can call me Professor Layton."

Kinky.

"Thank you for inviting me to your home, Professor Layton."

"Oh no, call me Hershel! And your name?"

Suddenly the words '_I'll never forget your face_' bitch slapped Descole in the memory. Did this also mean he would never forget Descole's name? Better be careful on this one.

"My name is uhh…Jean..Desco…lay, with an L-A-Y and the end, not an L-E."

"It is a pleasure meeting you, Jean Descolay."

"Ha ha. You said pleasure."

"Would you like something to eat?" Layton asked politely.

"Finally somebody asks to feed me! Is there a Josh in the Box around here?" Descole's stomach growled. It sounded like it was saying _feeeeeed_ _meeeee grshkrshkmmghsrkmgr_.

"No, I mean," Layton grabbed Descole's face and shoved it into his crotch, "would you like something to eat?"

Sticking out of Layton's zipper were two reservation tickets to London's most fancy and expensive restaurant, "Food La~La."

"I'd rather go to Josh in the Box, but that's fine too I guess."

Layton released Descole's face from his crotch and shouted, "To the Laytonmobile!"

"What the fuck?"

* * *

><p>Unfortunately for Descole, the Laytonmobile was not the decked-out futuristic SUV with jet pack wheels and a robot lady's voice asking you where you want to go or how your day was. No, it was just a shitty car with a roof high enough for Layton to drive around without having to take his top hat off. It didn't even have a tape player, but it was better than Jonathan's carriage. Instead, Descole had Layton beatbox while he rapped about smoking weed and the French revolution. ("Smoke that shit up while we blow your shit up. I roll my joints up in cash just like Marie Antoinette. Uhh something something something bitch find a hair net.")<p>

The food at Food La~La was indeed exquisite, though it was no Josh in the Box. Having not eaten for thirty years, Descole ordered every dessert on the menu. Layton watched his date shove all of that food into his skinny little body, seductively eating his spaghetti and breadsticks whenever to two made eye contact. He tried to get Descole to share one strand of spaghetti with him, slowly getting closer to each other's lips until Descole got the tiniest amount of spaghetti sauce on his boa and freaked out. Layton turned this into a puzzle:

You have stained your favorite white feathered boa with spaghetti sauce. With you you also have a white fur boa, a white faux fur boa, and a black feathered boa. Which boa should you wear if you want to look as equally fabulous as you do with your white feathered boa?

It was a trick question. Just turn the white feathered boa inside out.

As they were leaving the restaurant, a waiter passed by holding a plate of lobster. Descole screamed and cried as he ran into the men's room, where he puked his dinner.

After eating, the two decided to go see a movie. They accidentally walked into the wrong theater, which was playing _Attack of the Giant Lobsters VII_. Descole screamed and cried again, puking the rest of his dinner.

Finally, they were home, alone.

Descole looked around the bedroom.

"Is your kid still awake?"

"Goodness, no! He's not my kid-"

"OH THANK GOD!"

"That would be my apprentice, Luke. Don't worry," Layton reassured him, "I sent him to buy some milk at the grocery store on the other side of town. He should be back tomorrow evening and, if not then, perhaps by the next. So umm…"

Layton fiddled with his fingers.

"Why don't you turn around and I'll slip into something more comfortable?"

"Oh, I know this part!" Descole spun around. "This is when you surprise me with sexy lingerie."

"Oh god dammit," Layton said with a black stocking half-way up his leg. "Shall we just skip this part then?" He shut the dresser and walked over to Descole. "Let me see your hot bod again."

He undressed Descole. It took him twenty minutes.

Layton thanked God for seconds tonight.

"Oh, Descolay. You're so _mandsome_. May I take off your mask?"

"NO!" Descole panicked! "I mean, uh, I can't take it off because it's super glued to my face." (This actually wasn't a lie.)

"That's perfectly fine." Layton stroked the mask. "I like mysterious."

"Y-you do?"

Behind the mask, Descole's eyes twinkled, but that could also be because he used glitter super glue.

"Yes, I do. Now if you don't mind..."

"Oh, right."

Descole shoved Layton, who flew across the room and landed directly on top of the bed. This would have been almost impossible for Descole to do with his physique, but when you're sexed up this much you become Superman. He hopped on top of Layton, causing him to shout.

"Wait! It is ungentlemanly to not use protection or lubrication! Look in the drawer next to you!"

"There's a puzzle here."

"You can solve in in three moves!"

"Fuck my ass. Okay, here it goes…...Got it."

Descole rummaged quickly among the items in Layton's drawer. _Rubix cube, clothes hanger in the shape of a question mark, excavating tools….what does he plan on doing to me?_

"Did you find them yet?"

"Found them!"

He shut the drawer and applied the necessities to his own necessity.

"KY more like GAY Y. OKAY HERSHEL, HERE I COME!"

Descole belly flopped onto the bed and whispered into Layton's ear,

_"Are you ready to rumble?"_

They "went down" to business.

"Oh Jean!"

"Mrmphh."

"Feels…so…good. Would you..like to hear a puzzle?"

Remembering that it is rude to speak with food in your mouth, Descole proceeded to communicate using sign language. Layton put two hint coins over his nipples and asked,

"What is round and pink and wants to be white all over?"

Descole signed "Uh, ew." He then let go and stole Layton's hat and began to to do disappearing acts with his new assistant's penis. These illusions evoked sexually disturbing noises from Layton.

_His moans are driving me over the hedge!_ Descole thought. It was time to make the big move.

"I'M GONNA WRECK IT" Descole shouted and put it in.

This process repeated itself over and over that night, and even inspired a home video called _Hershel and Jean's Best Night Ever 2012_. Life was good for our hero.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Descole woke to the cliché sounds of birds chirping outside. But the birds weren't chirping. They were mating, right in front of the window.<p>

"Hershel, look!"

Descole punched Layton in the side. He woke up and they watched the birds together.

"It's us, Hershel. We are two birds fucking in front of a giant window, that window being our future."

"I'll go downstairs and make some tea, okay Descolay?"

"AGAIN WITH THE TEA!" Descole rolled his eyes. "Do you have any Go-Go Juice?"

"I'm afraid not. Do you have a favorite flavor?" Hershel asked.

"Just get me something fruity. I'm a fruity guy."

Layton put on his robe with, you guessed it, puzzle shaped patterns, and went down the stairs to make tea for two.

Now that Descole was all alone, he investigated the room. Hanging up on the wall was an old photo of a baby playing with a toy. Taking a closer look, he recognized the sexy eyes. This was a photo of baby Hershel Layton, looking just like he did (what was to Descole) one day ago.

"I see that you've found Thomas and me." One paragraph later and Layton was already back with the fruity tea.

"Thomas? You're MARRIED?"

"Haven't you heard of Thomas the tank engine, Descolay?"

"I've heard of a lot of things before but never somebody getting married to a truck." Descole sipped his tea while giving Layton the eye, not that Layton would even notice.

"Good heavens, Descolay. I'm talking about the TOY. See?"

As Layton pointed at the toy in the picture, a sick feeling came over Descole's stomach.

_That's…_

"That Thomas the tank engine was my favorite toy. My grandparents gave it to me…before they both spontaneously combusted right before my eyes! The flames were so bright and the sight so horrid that it shrunk my eyes!"

Layton took a long sip from his tea cup while Descole just stood, horrified, hoping Layton would shut up now.

"But my story of woe doesn't end there."

Descole spit out his tea.

"FUCK!"

"Thirty years ago," Layton continued, "somebody stole the only thing I had to remember my grandparents by. And that is person is YOU!"

Layton pointed dramatically at Descole, who dropped his cup of tea and slipped as he tried to make a run for it.

"Descolay, I'm sorry! I was only practicing for when I find the culprit!"

"Oh! Ha ha!" laughed Descole, covered in scalding hot tea. "I knew that! I was just helping you practice."

"Oh, Descolay." Layton helped him back to his feet. "You're such a good man. But when I find that person, I will rip his balls off. I'll never forget his –"

"OKAY time for me to go! It was nice meeting and banging you, Hershel!"

"Jean, wait!"

Then out of fucking nowhere, a rock smashed through the window. There was a note attached to it. It read;

**French man,**

**We know who, what, where, when and why you are. You've probably put it together already but we're watching you.**

"These assholes didn't even sign the letter. Now how am I going to know who's watching me?"

"Wait a minute, what's that?" Layton pointed to the back of the note. They flipped it upside down and to Descole's horror…

It was drawing of a lobster.

Descole puked on the spot. He wiped his mouth.

"These fuckers have gone too far."


	5. The Wanted Jean Descole

**Four thousand and five hundred twenty-two views? Thanks, fellow Descole fans! Fun fact: The album **_**Out Of Frequency **_**by Asteroids Galaxy Tour inspired me to take the direction the story is going right now. Even if you can't see how the two come together, you should give the album a listen because it's really good!**

* * *

><p><strong>PART ONE<strong>

**[Read this in Descole's voice.]**

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.

But there was no God for this poor man.

**[Stop reading in Descole's voice.]**

Tied down to an uncomfortable wooden chair in a pitch dark room was a well-dressed bank clerk. His red suit was specifically designed to fit his ghastly long torso. A classy gold name tag was pinned to his chest. It read "RAMON."

"I've already told you everything I know! Please," he pleaded, "let me a hoo hoo go!"

"SILENCE!"

The fat man, who had arrived at the bank moments too late after it was robbed by Descole, accompanied Ramon in the dark room. He smacked the helpless bank clerk across the face, who let out a painful _A-HOO!_

"So what now, boss?" a henchmen in the back of the room spoke up. "Do we torture him with a puzzle?"

"No," their boss gritted while lighting his cigar. "That won't be necessary. We've gathered all the information we need. Let's go find this trouble making three year-old thirty-three-year-old."

Ramon struggled to free himself from his chair.

"Somebody please save me from these a-hoo-hoo-hooligans!"

* * *

><p><strong>PART TWO<strong>

"These fuckers have gone too far."

Descole crumpled up the twisted threat note with the disgusting lobster drawing into a waste bin. He grabbed his cape from the coat rack and draped it over his now non-virgin body.

"Thank you for the sex, Hershel, but I have to go."

"Descolay! Wait!"

Layton threw on his clothes and followed after the man he had just made passionate and sweaty love to. He wouldn't let the best thing that has ever happened to him just walk out the door.

Descole walked out the door, but felt a tug on the back of his cape, resulting in the entire thing sliding off.

"Please take me with you," cried Layton, choking back the tiniest tears you can imagine.

"No! It's far too dangerous! And besides, I couldn't stand to see your beautiful giant face get hurt."

Layton wasn't going to give up on those sweet French cheeks running and rubbing together in front of him. (Is this turning you on?)

"Whoever these people are, they know where you are, and now they know where I am too."

"Oh shit, you're right!" Descole now realized.

"And besides…" Layton put his hands in between Descole's legs and gently squeezed his testicles. "I'm madly in love with you."

In this story, grabbing ones testicles is merely a disgusting act but an intimate and effective way of saying _I trust you. You are my whole life. Please stay with me forever, Jean Descole._

"All right, get in the carriage."

He shoved Layton into the carriage and ordered Jonathan to take them to his castle…but there was no response.

"OH MY GOD, THEY KILLED JONATHAN!"

"He's not dead," Layton verified, checking Jonathan's pulse. "He's sleeping. It's sleeping gas. The horses are asleep too."

"Damn those bastards! They know I don't know where my castle is!"

"Why don't you know where your castle is?"

Descole turned around and smirked, almost as if he was looking toward a camera.

"Because I was too busy poking you."

The same laugh track from chapters two and four played.

"Well, it looks like we're going to have to wait a few hours," said Layton, seductively removing his coat and turtleneck.

"Oh, thank God! He's awake!"

Descole picked up a bottle of Go-Go Juice from the bottom of his seat and poured it over Jonathan's face.

"Come on, Jonathan, get pumped!"

The Go-Go juice evaporated into Jonathan's beard like a sponge.

"Did you see who did this to you?"

"I'm afraid not, Master. I was too sleepy."

"Damn it, Jonathan! Let's wake up those horses and go home to my new super sweet castle."

As every carriage ride goes in this story, the ride was very long and very boring. Descole kept looking at his newfound love and joy, but mainly because Layton kept making suggestive gestures to get his attention. How cruel and unfair life is, to be given the best sex in the world and then to be wanted by mysterious thugs armed with sleeping gas the morning after. But so goes the awesome and tragic life of Jean Descole. Awesomely tragic. Tragically awesome. Awesome. Tragic. Descole.

"Master, we have arrived at your castle."

"SICK!"

Like an excited puppy dog that does not understand doors, Descole hopped out of the carriage window and face planted onto the front step. The dirt in his mouth tasted like royalty. He chewed on it satisfyingly.

As expected from a previous owner who thought he was a vampire, the castle that Descole and Jonathan had found on Craigslist was a beautiful historic 18th century classic, or at least it would have been a beautiful classic if it wasn't let to rot by a man who believed he would melt in sunlight. This only made it more attractive and "totally Pringles" to Descole.

"So how many stories does this castle have?" Descole asked Jonathan.

"Two-hundred, Master."

"Cool, I'm gonna have a shower."

There was only one bathroom in the entire two-hundred story castle. That was okay to Descole because it left plenty of space and water for the sea monkey aquarium he wanted so much.

He walked into the bathroom, smiling and thinking about sea monkeys, but got the shock of his life when he saw Layton already waiting for him, naked.

"Mind if I join you, Descolay?" he asked, holding up a phallus-shaped bottle of strawberries and cream shower gel. (Are you turned on now?)

"Uhh, one, where did you even find that and two, we'd be wasting water."

"Actually Descolay, we'd be saving water – "

"I SAID NO!"

Descole stole the shower gel from Layton's hands, pushed him out of the way and locked the door. Finally, a moment of peace and well-needed dude time.

The shower faucet was terribly rusted and creaky. With a few good kicks, Descole managed to turn the shower on.

Hundreds of spiders and bats poured out of the showerhead.

"That's what happens when you move in after a vampire."

He stepped into the tub, letting the hot water pour all over his tall, European physique. He opened up the lid of the phallus-shaped bottle and poured the gooey substance all over his body, scrubbing himself sensually as the water trickled down his back and to his buttocks, where the droplets took their fine time slowly glazing each cheek.

"This water is too hot."

He twisted the faucet to cold. His nipples perked up and hardened under the chilly water, like they could rip right through you.

"Brrr! Too cold!"

He twisted the faucet back to hot. His nipples softened back to normal, but now the boiling hot water caused his penis size to expand.

"Ow ow ow! Too hot!"

This time he twisted the faucet just a liiiiiiiitle bit in-between hold and cold. Now the hardness of his nipples balanced together with his penis size.

"Aaah, just right!"

(If that scene didn't turn you on then there's something terribly wrong with you.)

He walked out of the shower as a cleaned man.

In case you have forgotten throughout these past chapters showcasing the mature adult situations our hero has been through, Descole is still mentally a three year-old baby. As he was getting dressed, he sang the song his mother taught him to remember how to put on his clothes.

_It's fun to be naked but it's more fun to be dressed_

_Go pick an outfit that suits you best_

_But please oh please do not wear that stupid cape_

_I'm serious, Jean, don't you put that fucking thing_ -

He sighed and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"Too bad you never told me how to put on a suit, Mom."

"That was a cute song. For BABIES."

"Who the fuck?"

The mysterious mocking voice scared the heebie jeebies out of Descole, making him trip and lose balance. The last thing he saw before he fell face first into the toilet was a very short man in a super nice looking tuxedo.

"This is private property!" Descole's voice echoed from the toilet bowl. "You are not recognized as any type of authority!"

"My name is Bill Kill," said the little man, "and I've been sent to kill you, Jean Descole."

Descole giggled.

"That's a stupid name!"

"No it's not," said Bill Kill. "It's like the movie, but reversed."

"What movie?"

"Tisk, tisk," Bill Kill tisked and shook his head. "You really are just a baby after all. I know this because the movie was rated M, which suggests that you couldn't have seen the film because you're clearly a baby."

_How does this little asshole know I'm actually a baby?_ Descole wondered to himself. _Oh well, better come up with a comeback fast before he senses that I'm worried._

"I may be a baby, but at least I'm tall and handsome with a dick as big as your arm."

_Bingo!_

"Do you know why I'm an assassin, Mr. Descole?"

Descole shrugged.

"I don't fucking care."

"I took this job because the pay is good, and because when there is a murder, nobody ever expects a short person."

"That's the stupidest logic I've ever heard. Look, are you going to kill me, or are you going to keep talking? I'm not your fucking therapist."

Bill Kill pulled out a small, sharp instrument from a case in his pocket and leaned in close to Descole and the toilet.

"What I am holding right now is a syringe of powerful poison that the government hasn't even invented yet. One quick prick into the back of your neck, and your entire body will feel what can only be described as being eaten alive by a shark that just tried swallowing a hornet's nest that was set on fire and put out with a bucket of acid. The needle hole will be so tiny – "

"Like you," Descole interrupted.

Bill Kill sighed.

"I've killed one million people in my line of work and none of them were as sassy and annoying as you."

"Ha ha," said Descole.

"Anyway," the assassin went on, "the hole in the back of your neck will be so tiny that when the police come to investigate your death, everyone will just assume that you drowned in a toilet."

He held the needle one half of a centimeter away from Descole's neck and gently placed his finger over the top of the syringe, ready to kill.

"Any last words?" he mumbled into Descole's ear.

"Fuck you, I'm Jean Descole!"

"And now you die!"

"NOT TODAY MOTHERFUCKER!"

Layton busted through the door just in time and hit Bill Kill over the head with a steel pipe. (Nobody knows where Layton found the pipe.)

He stepped over the lifeless body on the floor and helped the still living Descole out of the toilet.

Descole spat a mouthful of toilet water in Layton's face.

"Dude," he said, wiping his mouth, "you just killed a guy named Bill Kill!"

"I had to kill Bill Kill! Bill Kill was going to kill you!"

"God, you're so fucking sexy!"

Descole passionately kissed Layton on the mouth, but accidentally threw up more toilet water. Hot.

"MASTER!"

Jonathan appeared in the doorway with such a worried look that his wide eyes could actually be seen underneath his thick eyebrows.

_That's funny_, thought Descole with his tongue still in Layton's mouth. _I didn't hear Jonathan's footsteps running down the long castle hall. Maybe this is the literary term that they call "foreshadowing?"_

"Master! Master's friend! Take these!"

Jonathan threw two rifles for Descole and Layton to catch.

"Do you even have a license for all these guns?" Descole asked, pulling off a sick jump and catching the gun with his feet.

"Now isn't the time to get a license! A mob of armed gangsters broke into the castle and are after you! We need to get out – "

Jonathan's warning was interrupted by a dozen loud gunshots. Layton had already killed ten men.

"H-how did you kill those men so easily?" Descole asked, highly impressed.

"It's easy," Layton spoke coldly as he reloaded. "I just think of the hardest tile puzzle that I've never solved."

"A duck of tiles," whispered Jonathan. He had remembered seeing the headline "FAMOUS ARCHEOLOGIST PROFESSOR HERSHEL LAYTON STUMPED BY PUZZLE GIVEN TO HIM BY LITTLE GIRL."

"A duck of tiles has taken everything from me, but now I have you, Descolay, and I won't let these cock suckers take you away too."

Layton turned and smiled at Descole, who was currently taking a piss.

A pang of guilt struck Descole's nerves. He stared at his reflection through the toilet water, thinking the words he could not say.

_Hershel, my love, you say a duck of tiles took everything you had, and now you have me, but what you don't know is that I took away Thomas the tank engine._

He almost confessed right then and there, but thought better of it as Layton was holding a loaded gun and had already killed eleven people that day.

If Descole had not bent over just in time to flush the toilet, he would have been dead for more shots were fired from outside, all aimed at him. Unfortunately, the noise frightened him so that once again he fell face first into the toilet.

"You guys," he gurgled, "cover me!"

Jonathan threw a towel over Descole.

"NOT THAT KIND OF COVER!"

As the bodies piled up, D and company realized that they were digging their own graves and that soon they would be out of ammo. They had to find a way out of that bathroom.

"To the window!" Descole ordered.

Layton and Jonathan each took a foot and dragged Descole out of the toilet and in through the window. They successfully escaped onto the roof.

"Fuck, I forgot this was a two-hundred story castle. Now what?" Descole asked his companions.

"This was your idea, DES-CO-LAY!" Layton snapped.

"Shut up, Hershel! I'm gonna roll you up in blankets and cook you up like a burrito…huh?"

Descole's eye caught what looked like a killer ant party taking place thousands of feet below. He picked up a pair on binoculars lying on the roof and took a peek.

"Oh shit!"

The castle courtyard was swarmed with thugs armed with guns, bulldozers and cannonballs. The army seemed to be led by a huge, sinister looking mobster carrying a giant megaphone.

"Guys, don't look now, but take a look through these binoculars."

Descole chucked the binoculars behind them, waiting for Layton and Jonathan to each take a look.

"Good lord!" Layton gasped. "They're going to try to take the castle down!"

The large man turned on his megaphone. It made a loud shrilling screech that hurt Layton and Jonathan's ears. They cowered back with their hands covering their ears, but not Descole, because he was wearing those ridiculous dog ears that were almost completely soundproof. It wasn't a very genius outfit design, but Descole thought puppies were cute.

"Jean Descole, surrender now," the man's voice boomed through the megaphone.

Descole picked up his own giant megaphone also conveniently lying on the roof and said, "how about no?"

The thugs behind their leader covered their faces with their palms. They couldn't believe the sassometer reading coming from this bitch.

"This is your second to last warning, Mr. Descole. Give us the money that you robbed from the bank yesterday morning."

"YOU ROBBED THE BANK?" Layton screamed at Descole. The memory of watching Descole being chased by squad cars outside of the bank suddenly made sense to him.

"Uhh, yeah. Why else would somebody go to the bank?" Descole brought the megaphone back to his mouth and asked, "why can't you guys just rob a different bank?"

"Because that was our favorite bank!"

The thugs nodded their heads and cheered "yeah!" in response to their boss's answer.

"This is your last chance. Give us the money or we won't destroy your new castle."

Descole closed his eyes to assess the situation at hand. The wannabe vampire that he had inherited the castle from sold it to him for free, so the castle funds he had robbed were no longer a necessity. It still was a large amount of money, however. He could purchase thousands of lasers and personal pizzas, or lasers that can turn anything into personal pizzas. And then on the other side of the spectrum were the fate of his two friends. Hershel Layton, the man he fell in love and slept with, and Jonathan, the man who "sort of kind of" saved his life, were destined to die if he refused to surrender. Descole took a deep breath and said into the megaphone,

"I'm still not giving you the money."

The large man snapped his fingers and yelled, "TEAR IT DOWN, BOYS!"

The bulldozers drove into the front of the building and the cannonballs were set into place.

"DESCOLAY, YOU ARE A HORRIBLE PERSON!" Layton shouted and slapped Descole across the face.

"He's not horrible," said Jonathan, "he's just misunderstood!"

"Shut up, Jonathan!" Descole slapped Jonathan's face. "I have an idea."

Descole led the others to the back of the castle, miraculously dodging cannonballs and hopping over the smoky debris.

"Hershel, Jonathan. How much ammo do you two have left?"

"None," answered Layton. "I thought I saw a bird carrying a hint coin."

"I still have ammo, Master!"

Jonathan rolled his sleeves up and his socks down, revealing eight rifles taped to his arms and legs.

"Jonathan, I know you were hardcore!"

Descole raised his hand in the air, expecting a high-five from his senile butler. There was no response.

"Are we going to kill more people?" Layton asked with a thirst for blood.

"Wow, I didn't know that my boyfriend was a fucking psycho. No, we're going to escape."

"But how, Descolay? We're thousands of feet above the ground and in a few minutes this entire building will be rubbish!"

"Don't doubt me, Hershel!" Descole growled. (Descole literally growls when he his angry because he believes that he is part wolf.) "Now listen up! Both of you hold onto me, and when I jump – "

"JUMP?! Are you out of your bloody fucking mind?!" Layton shouted hysterically. (It is a well-known scientific fact that all British people say "bloody" when they are in shock.)

"Fuck you and listen to me!" Descole snarled through his teeth. He was in full mother wolf mode. "I hate to admit it, but I weigh less than a feather. In fact, it's pretty fucking difficult walking around with this stupid feathered boa all the time, but it makes me look irresistible."

"Amen!"

"Thank you, Jonathan. So when I jump, you two shoot the hell out of those rifles. Hopefully the recoil from the shots will keep us from falling to our deaths. Now on the count of three. One…"

Layton gulped.

"Two…"

Jonathan pulled out his rosary and prayed.

"Three. NOW SHOOT, MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Without hesitating or shitting around, Descole hopped off the roof and stretched out his cape. Layton and Jonathan did as they were told and shot their rifles, keeping them afloat.

"Wow, Descolay!" Layton yelled over the gunshots. "I didn't know you could fly! I'm kind of turned on right now to be honest!"

"Of course I can fly! I'm Jean Descole!"

The sight was beautiful, even to the unknowing gangsters below, who took a moment to stop destroying things and to watch what one of them described as "a glorious swan-like falcon soaring through the clouds like a god damn angel."

"Going down!" Descole shouted as they glided closer and closer to the surface. "Ha ha! I said 'going down.'"

They landed roughly, but safely, into a hedge of bushes.

"Is everybody okay?" Descole asked with an unusual hint of politeness in his tone. "If anybody's hurt, it's not my fault – OH MY GOD, JONATHAN! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?!"

"I'm all right, Master! My beard is just camouflaging through these bushes."

"Thank God!" Descole sighed in relief. "I like your beard. It fits you very well, and it distracts from how freakishly long your face is."

"Thank you, Master."

Descole would never have noticed, but a small tear dropped and landed onto Jonathan's beard. It was the first time in the two days that they knew each other that he'd received an honest and genuine comment from Descole.

"And how about your freakishly abnormal face?" Descole walked over to Layton, who was currently trying to solve a hidden puzzle that he had found in the bushes.

"I'm fine! But Descolay," Layton turned around 180 and went into full sexual mode, "have you ever wondered what it would be like to do it in the sky?"

Descole stared speechless at Layton, half aroused and half confused, until he remembered something crucial.

"Oh shit! What about the carriage?"

"Oh, those poor ponies!" Layton whined.

"No, not the horses, you dumbass! The money's in the carriage!"

"Do not worry about the carriage, Master. Just as the kids like to say these days, I 'got this.'"

Plucking a blade of grass off the ground and putting it between his lips, Jonathan whistled a merry tune. Soon enough, the sounds of hooves and neighing could be heard coming from the distance.

"Can I just say that was the gayest and simultaneously coolest thing I've ever seen?" Descole marveled in awe.

The horses came to a halt in front of Descole and his party, and inside the carriage were still the sacks of money and bottles of Go-Go Juice.

"What are you going to do with all that cash, Descolay?" Layton asked.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Probably buy another castle."

"Well if you don't mind, I'd like to go home to pack my things and have a cup of tea."

"Pack your things?" Descole wondered. "What for? Are you leaving me for a woman?!"

"I'm packing my things to move in with you, of course!"

"I never said you could – " Descole paused and thought about it for a moment. "I guess there's enough room in my castle for three."

"Well there's going to have to be room for four, because I'm not ditching Luke like his dad did to him."

"Okay, but just because I put my thingaling up your butt doesn't make me the one in charge of poopy diapers."

Descole waited for a laugh track, but it never came because that was a terrible line.


	6. The Babysitter Jean Descole

**It's been May since I've last updated this, but with the US arrival of Azran Legacy on its way, I realized I need to finish this entire story fast before it stomps on my dreams. But never forget, friends! This is the REAL story about Jean Descole. (And if you are aware of AL spoilers, please don't mention them in the comments!) Hold onto your boas, kids. It's going to be a wild ride.**

* * *

><p>The London streets were as busy and packed as usual, or so this author who has never been to London would assume. Among the crowds of people their carriage passed by, Descole could have sworn he saw the evil woman from the nursery. She wore dark glasses and walked around with a cane and a seeing-eye dog, due to the effects of the orange juice that was squirted into her eyes thirty years ago when baby Descole made his escape.<p>

"L-O-L!"

More familiar with the area, Layton watched the people hustling and bustling from his window. There was that one kid he admired for handing out puzzles to tourists asking for directions, and then that little girl who also handed out puzzles to tourists, and the homeless guy who asked for puzzles from tourists. Nothing out of the ordinary, except…

"STOP THE FUCKING CAR!" Layton demanded.

"I believe you are mistaken," Jonathan chuckled. "This is a carriage, not a car!"

"Pretty sure it's called a horse car," Descole added.

"No, Master. Horse cars are cars driven by horses."

"Ohhhhh yeaaaah. Then what are horses who drive horse cars called?"

"They're called horses, Master."

"Man this is so confusing-"

"I TOLD YOU TO STOP THE FUCKING CAR!"

Jonathan whispered for the horses to halt and they stopped the carriage in the middle of an intersection. A little boy in a blue cap holding a spoiled carton of milk crossed the street without looking. Layton opened the door and beckoned for the child to come in. (It's okay. They know each other.)

"Come on, Luke! Get in the car!"

"I'm not allowed to talk to strangers!" the boy who we now know is named Luke squeaked. "Do you like cats?"

"Luke, it's me, Professor. Please get in the car."

The child skipped merrily to the carriage, humming the Duck Tales theme song.

Even though Descole really liked the Duck Tales theme song, he slammed the door before the little boy could climb aboard.

"What the fuck, Descolay?"

"I hate kids!" Descole huffed and puffed with his arms crossed in defiance. "It's got candy stuck to its hands and it smells like rancid milk. I will NOT let that kid in this carriage!"

In a hilarious turn of events, the next scene will begin with Descole stuck sitting next to Luke in the carriage saying,

"I can't believe we let that kid in this carriage."

The sight of Layton's humble London abode could not come any sooner, for the rest of the ride was spent with Descole, Layton and Jonathan holding their noses from the stench of the kid, and grinning and bearing it through the Duck Tales theme song.

They agreed to draw sticks to decide who would be the one to give Luke his bath. Jonathan's stick was the largest, Layton's was the second largest and the second smallest, and Descole's was the smallest.

"This stick game is clearly flawed! Why the hell can't Jonathan do it? I'm not paying him to sit around and do nothing."

Actually, Descole wasn't paying Jonathan at all.

"Sorry Master, but I have to take the carriage to the store."

"Good. Pick up bananas for the sea monkeys. That is an order."

"Master, sea monkeys aren't...Of course, Master."

Jonathan out.

"And I just remembered that I have a class to teach right now," Layton was lying, "so uh…It looks like you'll be babysitting Luke for a long time. Bye, French cheeks!"

Layton, also out.

A tumbleweed rolled by and brushed against Descole's leg. He flung back and hit the ground. Imaginary stars danced and twirled above his head.

"Ugh, I hate kids!" he groaned.

* * *

><p>It took twelve Butterfingers to lure Luke into the bathroom. Once the boy entered his trap, Descole locked the door and swallowed the key…but noticed that he had locked himself inside the bathroom too.<p>

"Luke, you smell like dog shit that stepped into a pile of more dog shit. Take a bath."

"Okay!"

"UGH, WHY ARE YOU SO DIFFICULT?"

He repeatedly poked Luke with the end of a scrub brush.

"Get. In. The. Fucking. Tub…. OH MY GOD, BUBBLES!"

A pink plastic bottle of bubble soap was sitting on the edge of the tub. Descole took advantage of the bubbles and poured all of its fun and foamy contents into the bath. This piqued Luke's interest because what kid doesn't love bubbles?

"Cool bubbles!"

"Get lost, kid."

Descole had changed his mind and wanted to take the bath instead. The bubbles got to him.

He pushed Luke the child out the window (don't worry, it was only two stories) and dived into the tub in his suit.

"Hey, Mr.? I think I broke my leg."

"Just put a bandage on it and you should be fine."

Once the bubbles completely soaked away (he may have tasted and swallowed a few), Descole jumped out of the tub and checked on Luke through the window, who was eating a pile of leaves.

"Uh…do you want to play a game or something?" he called out to the child.

"Let's play fire trucks!"

"Fire trucks? SWEET!"

Really fucking excited to play fire trucks, Descole hopped up and down but slipped on a bar of soap that was lying on the floor. The soap had him zooming across the floor, so fast that he zoomed right through the door, leave a cartoonish Descole shaped hole in the door.

"Now Hershel can always think of me when he's using the toilet."

Descole HAD to find those fire trucks. He tore Layton's entire home apart, ripping cushions off of sofas and throwing rare artifacts off of shelves. The search wasn't going anywhere far, so Descole stepped it up a notch and found a hammer in Layton's tool box. He smashed literally everything in Layton's office, except for a really cool box he found hidden in the back of a closet.

"So cool!"

There was a sticky note stuck to the box's lid.

_Do not open this box because you will die!_

In Descole's head, this warning was just a diversion. Inside that box were the coolest looking fire trucks anybody had ever seen, probably Hess models.

His mouth drooled as he opened the box. His whole life led up to this holy moment.

The only thing inside the box was a very old piece of paper. Descole smashed the box and went outside to join Luke.

"Hey kid, what gives? There aren't any god damn fire trucks in that house."

Descole rolled up his sleeves, ready to brawl.

"That's because we _imagine_ we're fire trucks," Luke spoke and spat grass out of his mouth. (He was playing "lawn mower" by himself.)

"Whoa, imagination's pretty cool. Can I be the yellow fire truck?"

The child lawn mower shook his head.

"I, Professor Layton's #1 apprentice, am always the yellow fire truck."

"GOD, I HATE YOU SO MUCH!"

He was about to hit Luke, but his puppy ears perked up when he heard a halting screech behind him.

A suspicious black car pulled up beside the curb.

"Ice cream truck!" Luke yelped. He was walking up to the car.

The backseat opened, and a man holding an ice cream cone signaled for Luke to come inside the car.

"Luke, don't you dare get in that car!" Descole yelled across the lawn, not actually doing anything to stop him.

Luke sat in the backseat.

"We're going to the ice cream factory. Goodbye!"

The man in the car closed the door and dropped the ice cream cone out the window. Normally this is when the kidnappers would drive away as fast as they could, but two of Layton's neighbors had just parked their cars in front and back of the black car. The kidnappers made sure not to hit the other cars, then drove away.

"Shit."

Descole picked the ice cream cone off the ground and went inside to watch TV before Layton and Jonathan would come home.

* * *

><p>"Descolay, I'm home! ~"<p>

It was two in the morning. Descole was lying on the couch, watching Britain's Funniest Home Videos.

"Hello, Hershel my love. You have lipstick stains all over your face. Your students must really love you."

"Ho ho! I can't see why not. I am the hottest teacher in Gressenheller, after all!"

"You smell like perfume."

"Yeah, well a lot of things smell like perfume."

Audience laughter and stupid BOINK! noises from the TV filled the awkward silence between the two men in the room.

Layton quickly changed the subject.

"Boy, I can't wait to see this new castle!"

"Yes!" Descole sprung from the sofa. "Shut up and go pack your things right now!"

"Where is Luke?"

"GULP!"

Descole wet his pants a little when Layton gave him a terrifying stare. His eyes were almost literally on fire.

"Descolay, where's Luke?"

"Uh, he went to bed. Don't wake him up."

"Well that's too bad because I have to give him his shots."

"NOOOO!"

Descole clung onto Layton's heels, dragged along into Luke's room. The rug burn hurt like a mother.

There was definitely a body underneath the sheets in Luke's bed. Layton pulled off the blanket.

"Descolay, why is Jonathan in Luke's bed?"

"It would have worked if you didn't pull of the blanket," Descole shrugged. "You should just go ahead and give him the shot anyway. He's probably going to die soon – OW OW OW WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Layton had picked Descole up by the boa and shoved him against the wall. It was kind of hot.

"If you don't tell me where Luke is, I will rip off your fucking dick and throw it out the window!"

Glancing at his dick, then at the window, then at his dick again, Descole decided it was for his dick's own good to tell the truth.

"He was kidnapped, okay? What do you want me to do about it? Now please put me down. I'm pretty sure I completely pissed myself this time."

Releasing the boa from his grasp, Layton sighed and shook his head miserably.

"Descolay, you are one hot French fry, but you're also dumb as shit."

They came to an agreement that tomorrow they would tell Luke's parents that their son was kidnapped. They did not want to bother them so late at night.

Banished to the couch, Descole held onto his dick for the rest of the night. He had witnessed the beast within Professor Hershel Layton, and he now knew that this was a dangerous love.

* * *

><p>Technology has catered to man our whole lives. From the creation of the wheel to the discovery of the internet and , we've always looked to technology to help us evolve into a modernized civilization with inventions serving for convenience as well as for entertainment. We've built homes with everything we'll ever need to survive. (When was the last time you went outside?) But the truth is, no matter how much we push ourselves to invent and create more, our technology will never triumph over nature. Really everything we needed was there from the beginning, and though our lives would be very different from the way they are now, we are still aware of this. Maybe that is why we feel so comfortable and free when we are surrounded by greenery and creatures who couldn't give a shit about . It is a place, away from the electric lights and droning sounds of automobiles, where we can freely be ourselves and really, honestly think with no distractions, and our main character had a lot of thoughts on his mind.<p>

"Did you guys know that every year we swallow eight spiders in our sleep?"

Descole and Layton, and Luke's parents were on a scenic hike through the woods.

The father was Clark Triton, a former college bro of Layton's. Unlike Layton, Clark realized that looking at rocks was for nerds (no offense to my archeologist readers) and ditched the archeology scene. He became the mayor of a crappy town instead for the hell of it. It was his sexy beard that won the hearts of the voters, as well as the heart of his beautiful wife, Brenda.

Brenda appeared to the normal eye a petite, brown haired angel with a wonderful taste in hip mom clothing, but something about her put Descole off. He wasn't sure why, but he really wanted to throw her into a cellar and lock the door.

"So, Clark asked, "what are we doing in the woods?"

Layton pinched Descole's ass, which meant "tell them Luke was kidnapped" and "hey, nice ass" at the same time.

"Uh, we thought it would be cooler to tell you that your son was kidnapped if we were in the woods instead of your boring house."

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Brenda slapped Descole silly, upside down and inside out. She literally slapped him in every spot of his body. Upon being told that her son was kidnapped and that her house sucked in one sentence, things were not going very well at all.

Now Descole _really_ wanted to lock her in a cellar.

"Who is this chick?" Clark pointed at Descole.

"That's Descolay," answered Layton. "We're banging."

There was a slight sense of embarrassment in Layton's voice when he looked at Descole, still currently being slapped. They had been banging for two days, but Layton was only just realizing that Descole was kind of an idiot. Was their sizzling romance coming to an end?

Layton looked up to the sky, wishing that a really cool plane would fly above him and spell out whether he should or shouldn't break up with Descole. Instead of a cool plane, he saw a lumpy gray object falling from the sky. Thankfully, Layton had a degree in archeology and was able to identify and warn the others of the object before it was too late.

"ROCK!"

Clark started headbanging.

"No, Clark! I mean the noun kind of rock!"

Everybody ran away, except for Descole, who looked up to see the rock. Reader, I don't think I need to tell you whose face the rock landed on. (In case I do need to tell you, it was Descole's face that the rock had landed on.)

"Ow my entire face!"

The lights in Descole's eyes went out. No longer could he see the earthy green scenery. No longer could he see Layton's sexy baby face, and no longer could he see the rock that landed on his face. It sucked, but not for long.

Descole regained his vision, but was very surprised because he was no longer looking up at the sky with the rock on his face but looking down at himself.

"Cool! Is this one of those out of body experiences?"

Why yes, Descole. It is.

"Now I get to see what everybody will say about me after I've died!"

Flapping his little angel wings and munching on ghost popcorn, he watched to see what his friends would do next.

No one said anything. They just kind of stared at Descole's dead body, then at each other, shrugging. The exchange went as this:

Brenda: Should we, like, bury him or something?

Layton: Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

Clark: I'll go get the shovel.

Descole started to cry into his popcorn. Usually they put extra butter into your popcorn, not extra tears.

"They miss me so much!" he sobbed. "Okay, enough of this supernatural shit."

He finished his popcorn and flew back into his body.

"SURPRISE, BITCHES!"

_WHACK!_

His surprise greeting was greeted back by a few hits to the head from Clark's shovel. In all fairness, Clark thought Descole was a zombie.

"Dude, I gotta stop watching those Scooby Doo movies at night."

Okay, Mystery Gang, let's get back to the plot.

Layton screamed when he noticed there was a piece of paper tied to the rock that nearly slew Jean Descole. Sound familiar?

Descole had never taken acting classes nor had he ever stepped a foot into his preschool drama club, but neither of those were necessary for Descole was born a fucking star. The sun came out and shone on him like a spotlight, and all of the little critters in the woods shut up and paid attention to the star before them. He cleared his throat, then gave the performance of his life.

_Give us the money or the kid gets it._

_P.S. – You're a terrible babysitter._

You'd think the mafia would have more effective ways of threatening people than with puzzles and notes tied to rocks.

He crumpled the piece of paper up and threw it in Layton's face to avoid a littering fine.

"I am NOT a terrible babysitter!"

He may be the world's greatest actor, but he definitely was a terrible babysitter. If only he had acted to be a decent babysitter, this missing child mess could have been prevented.

"Hey Frenchy, how much money are we talking about?" Brenda took out her wallet.

"Like, one bank."

She put her wallet back into her purse.

"Shit, that's a lot of money. I can see why they'd kidnap my son for it. Maybe there is a way around this where you can keep the money."

The gang formed a circle and put their heads together to see if they could come up with an appropriate solution. When that didn't work, they all stroked Clark's beard.

Twirling the beard through his fingers, the scratchy bristles on Clark's face transported a thought through Layton's fingertips and into his brain.

"I have figured out the solution to this puzzle, and the solution is that we need a really, really big gun."

"Jonathan has a lot of guns in his tree house. I can see if-"

"No, fuck Jonathan," Layton interrupted Descole. "We're going to need a REALLY big gun, and I know how to build one. I have all the necessary parts in my office at Gressenheller, but there is just one part that I am missing."

"If it's my boa -"

"The final piece I am missing is my Thomas the Tank Engine toy."

"Oh shit."


	7. The Baby Jean Descole Part II

**The plot thickens! This is by far the longest chapter I've written, so be ready for endless scrolling. Many thanks to everyone reading this story! May I suggest that when you read Descole and Layton's lines when they are babies, imagine them being said in their normal adult voices. I mean you don't _have_ to, but it makes things funnier and cooler in my opinion...**

* * *

><p>There it was, five-thousand feet above him – the cliff that nearly killed Jean Descole. Many objects in this story had nearly killed Descole, but this cliff was the most dreadful for what was at the top – one time machine, that fucking Thomas the Tank Engine toy, and the upcoming moment where Layton learns the dark truth about our hero.<p>

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit. He's going to kill me. He's going to fucking kill me. He's going to choke me with my boa and then he's going to stick the boa up my ass and pull my asshole out of my asshole and then he's going to make me solve A Duck of Tiles as I lie bleeding in my own grave._

"Descolay, are you okay? You're sweating through your suit and your feathers are molting. You look like you just had a dark premonition."

"Shut up. I don't think you should climb this cliff with me. It's too dangerous and you'd slow me down with your stupid tapping for hint coins."

"Nonsense! A gentleman needs his exercise from sitting on his ass and drinking tea all day!"

"Again with the gentleman thing," Descole rolled his invisible eyes. "Maybe it's a good thing you're going to kill me."

Despite Descole's numerous attempts to get his gentleman caller off his dick ("the sun is too bright", "I have a bun in the oven" and "you need to have solved ten million puzzles to get past this cliff"), Layton would not decline. He was curious to see where his Thomas the Tank Engine toy had been after all these years, and how Descole knew where to find it.

While they were busy climbing, Clark and Brenda stayed at home in case they'd hear anymore words from Luke's kidnappers. Strangely enough, Jonathan was nowhere to be found. A call was dispatched to the police, but the police told Descole and his friends that they would have to call back tomorrow because they already filed one missing persons report that day.

So far, he and Layton had climbed two feet. This was two feet too many for Descole.

"I can't do this anymore! I keep touching rocks and this climbing gear is messing with my junk!"

"Just a little bit farther, Descolay. We're almost….H-Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!"

Descole threw off his gear and straddled himself onto Layton's back.

"I'm going to ride on your back for the rest of the way. It's only fair since you rode me two nights ago."

Four feet up.

"Fuck this, I'm getting the Laytonmobile."

For once in this story, Descole understood logic.

"You can't just drive up a cliff, Hershel. The rocks will poke holes into your tires."

"Watch this, bitch."

Layton made a daring four-foot jump, with Descole still on his back. Amazing.

Descole held up a score card with the number ten on it.

The Laytonmobile was parked in a lot under the cliff. The lot wasn't there in the second chapter, but Descole did not question it because, after building a time machine as a baby and being transported to a world where dinosaurs guard banks and castles are found for free on Craigslist, he knew that nothing ever made sense anymore.

_Vroom vroom!_

To Descole's surprise, the Laytonmobile actually was able to drive up the cliff - and pretty fast, too!

"There's nothing this baby can't do," Layton purred as he rubbed the dashboard rather excitedly. Descole wondered if Layton had ever made love to the Laytonmobile before.

There are no road signs or speed limits on the edges of cliffs, so Layton floored it. They'd be at the top in less than a minute.

_One second, two seconds, three seconds…_

Descole remembered the promise Layton made about his Thomas the Tank Engine toy the morning after they had banged.

_When I find that person, I will rip his balls off._

Aware of the unpropitious outcome, Descole patted his groin as if he was saying goodbye.

"Ha ha, I do that sometimes when I'm in here too," smiled Layton.

_Thirty seconds, thirty-one seconds…_

Number two hundred and fifty-two on Descole's bucket list specified to stick his head outside the window of a moving car like a doggy. Seeing as this was his last chance before his bloody ball-less end, he stuck his head out of the Laytonmobile as far as he could. His puppy ears whipped freely in the wind, and he slobbered. He slobbered like he was the happiest damn dog on the planet.

_Fifty-eight seconds, fifty-nine seconds…_

Layton parked the car on top of the cliff.

"Descolay, I need to tell you something important before we get out of the Laytonmobile."

"Uh, okay," Descole mumbled and put the shoe he was going to hit Layton over the head with back onto his foot.

"I was this close to breaking up with your skinny ass because you're stupid and annoying, but…"

Itty bitty drops of water began to swell under Layton's ittier bittier eyes.

"But today," he continued in tears, "Today you have led me to the thing I've wanted more than anything in the world to see again – my Thomas. You have proven to me that you are a man worth fighting and loving for -"

Descole hit Layton over the head with his shoe and hopped out of the Laytonmobile.

It was funny how time stood still when Descole's eyes met with the machine where time means nothing at all. Just why did that time machine turn him into a sexy full grown man when he entered it as a baby? A baby genius could never have built a faulty time machine, so what was the trick here?

_What the fuck ever, _he shrugged it off. _It's probably not important at all._

He pulled the flux capacitor – no – he pulled _Thomas_ from a crack in the machine and turned back around.

"You son of a bitch's bitch."

The shoe had not knocked out Layton as Descole hoped it would.

"I-it's all a dream, Hershel!" Descole stepped back. "Go back to sleep!"

But Layton knew it wasn't a dream. He only dreamt in puzzles.

Fists clenched, Layton approached Descole and the time machine. The brim of his top hat hid his eyes, and a menacing shadow of pure darkness seized the top of his face. It was shit-in-your-pants horrifying.

"Just who the fuck are you?" Layton breathed heavily. It almost seemed like his flared nostrils were doing the talking, but nostrils don't talk.

It was time to come forward, and Descole had to do it in the most theatrical way possible. He cackled like a male witch (called warlocks), spun around and poofed his boa to look more intimidating, and it almost actually worked.

"My name is Jean Descole, and I am the baby who stole your Thomas the Tank Engine toy."

(Someone nearby was playing a pipe organ. It was a rather catchy tune. Descole made a mental note to find the pipe organ player later and ask if he could use the song as his theme.)

"I should have known it was you! The signs were right in front of me this whole time, but I was tricked by your sexiness! You are an evil, evil man, Jean Descole."

These words that Layton spoke triggered something in Descole, past his internal organs and into his psyche. There was another man inside of Descole, figuratively speaking.

"Ha! Now that you've said it, being evil sounds really fun! I guess I'm going to be a villain now so bye."

"You may be evil now, but I'm still tearing off your balls!"

The professor's arm lunged at his enemy's groin, but Descole dodged Layton by pulling off a sick, inhuman flip. He landed behind Layton like a fucking cat and meowed.

"Too slow!"

(For the record, this author did not steal this scene from the movie called _Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva_ because none of the characters in the movie were grabbing at each other's crotches, at least not on camera.)

"How the fuck did you do that?" Layton gasped. "That was actually really cool."

"It doesn't matter. I'm a villain now. I can do anything I want. And as for this hunk of junk…"

He swung the precious Thomas in front of Layton, creating the fear that it could be thrown off the cliff at any moment.

"I _could_ just destroy the stupid thing with my bare hands or even with my sharp canine teeth, but I have a more evil plan than that."

"What could possibly be more evil than breaking my heart?"

Thomas' life was spared, but not for nothing.

Breaking Layton's heart was no longer of any concern to Descole, but getting inside that time machine was. He ran around in circles until Layton was too dizzy to go after him, then he placed the flux capacitor into its slot and boarded the time machine.

"I'm going to the biblical times to convince everyone that I'm Jesus. Bye, bitch!"

The ground rumbled as the time machine did its thing, and the impact sent the Laytonmobile flying off the cliff.

"Oh COME ON, DESCOLE!"

In case you didn't know, time machines are more advanced than elevators. In time machines, you can choose what waiting music you'd like to listen to. Descole chose the futuristic genre "space alien dragon funk", and practiced his villain laugh.

"Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha HA ha! No, wait…HA HA ha HA!"

The bell rang and the time machine's automatic door opened.

"Ha HA ha HA – OH GOD DAMN IT!"

Descole was teleported back to the ear ringing, poopy diaper scented nursery where his journey started thirty years ago.

* * *

><p>"I can't breathe! I can't breathe!"<p>

The transformation from baby to sexy man to baby again was never convenient for Descole's fashion choices. The clothes he had been wearing were now too large (save for his favorite baby cape that he wore over his man cape.) He struggled to find his way out of the feathery boa nest.

"I can't breeeeeeeeeeaaaaaathe!"

A fellow baby's hand reached into the boa to rescue Descole. Though it hurt his pride to rely on and come in physical contact with a baby lower than himself, he held onto to that baby's hand for his dear life. He did not want to die in such a dishonorable place where parents drop their babies off when they want to have alone time and make more babies. (This actually wasn't the case for the other parents, just Descole's parents.)

"Thank you for saving me, you piece of shit baby. Go grab me a diaper. My behind is cold."

Descole snapped his fingers, and his hero baby fetched him a fresh, new unstinky diaper.

"Powder my bottom."

Again, the other baby complied. Descole was starting to think he found a suitable replacement for Jonathan.

"Now be my slave and help me fix this time machine so I can get the hell out of here."

The other baby helped willingly, but kept a steady eye on the machine, as if he was looking for something on it. It wasn't until Descole passed the screwdriver that his eyes met with those of his slave baby's.

It was none other than Hershel the Professor Layton, and Hershel the Professor Layton never forgot when Descole stole his favorite toy (which literally only happened minutes ago in his time.)

"I'm going to eat your butt and set it on fire," said the baby Layton.

(Remember that babies can only talk telepathically, all except for genius babies like Descole.)

Descole struggled to restart the time machine, but the baby Layton dragged him out by his legs and started punching him in the eyes. Without his mask on for defense, these punches landed critical blows.

If Descole's weakness were his unmasked eyes, this must mean that Layton, unequipped with his trademark top hat, would be most vulnerable to blows to the head. Thinking fast, Descole grabbed a plastic toy hammer and bonked Layton on the head repeatedly.

A swarm of curious babies crowded around Descole and Layton to watch the riot, cheering and shouting very non-baby like suggestions.

"_Eat his fucking heart!"_

"_Send him to naptime forever!"_

"_Collect his tears in a bottle and squirt his tears into his eyes!"_

The sadistic babies were not the only ones in the nursery screaming. That horrible woman who tried to make a fool out of Descole before was writhing on the playroom floor, blinded by orange juice and yelling, "I CALLED YOUR PARENTS! I CALLED YOUR PARENTS!"

The nursery was utter shit fuck chaos.

German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once said "when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you." That quote doesn't actually have anything to do with this story, but Descole did get the chance to gaze into Layton's eyes when they called for a Gatorade break before the fight's second round.

He forgot how small, round and exotic they were. He loved the way they never changed to match Layton's expressions, and he loved when he couldn't tell which direction Layton was looking at, especially in bed.

Descole's heart fluttered and his stomach growled, hungry for those eyes.

"Baby Hershel, before you punch my eyes into dust, I have to say something emotional."

"You've got thirty seconds," Layton warned, his telepathic voice vibrating from a massage he was receiving from one of the referee babies.

"Because I only have thirty seconds, I will make this my abridged speech."

Descole cleared his throat.

"My name Jean Descole…I stole toy…future…you me meet…touched your nipple…gay sex…me love you."

Layton threw his finished bottle of Gatorade to the floor and smashed it with his foot.

"I'd never have gay sex with you!"

"Yeah well you did, and because me love you, I will do anything in the world to make up for stealing your favorite toy."

"Can I just have my Thomas toy back?"

"Uh, no. Sorry. That's the one thing I can't do. And now that you've brought it up, I'm going to set the nursery on fire."

Just like that, the villain had sunk back into Descole. He yanked Thomas out of the time machine and hid it safely in his diaper, making it the second time he'd stolen Layton's toy. (It was a crime punishable by five minutes of time out.) His next move was to crawl to the toy box, where he found a pack of matches. The powers of fire and destruction were now in his pudgy hands, and he realized it was the perfect moment to premier his perfected villain laugh to the world.

"Fssssh ha ha ha ha HA HA ha ha HA! Wait, what?"

The pack of matches slipped out of Descole's grasp when two hands with horrendous faux finger nails picked him off the ground. He looked up and saw Mr. and Mrs. Descole, also known as Descole's parents.

"Jeany, your father and I were having a great time until we got a call from the day care saying you were being a very bad boy! You are in big big big big big big big trouble, young man!"

"No!" Descole struggled to free himself from his mother's arms, pounding his fists on her shoulders. "Put me down, you sons of bitches! WAAAAAH! WAAAAAH!"

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><p><strong>Congratulations on getting this far. I can't believe you're still reading this. Go take a break. Order a pizza or go to the bathroom. Look at a few deslay amvs on Youtube while you wait for your pizza. Is your pizza here? Okay, good. Please continue.<strong>

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><p>One baby year prior (which is equal to one adult year), Descole had been invited to a birthday party. Technically, it was his parents who were invited to the party, but his mother's fake fingernails ripped off the part of the invitation that said <em>p. s. DO NOT BRING YOUR BASTARD CHILD!<em>

Cake had been served at the party, and Descole made it his mission to score the biggest piece. When the man serving the cake said that all the pieces were the same size and that everyone should wait for their turns, Descole had gone ballistic. He hopped onto the picnic table and stomped on the cake, destroying it to smithereens. The entire party had been called off, and it wasn't until his parents locked him in the closet that he had realized, _Hey, I really wanted to eat that cake._

_Rational_ was not a word in Descole's ABC's book. The incident with the cake had been no different than what happened in the nursery. At present, he wanted to board that time machine and get out of there as fast as he could, but somewhere along the line he had tried to burn it down instead.

With time to cool down in his parents' minivan, he reconstructed his thoughts. He was going to return to that damned nursery, and he was going to repair that time machine. It would now be easier than ever to convince everyone he was Jesus because he was a baby. (He'd just push the real baby Jesus out of the manger when no one was looking.)

He wasn't going anywhere in his safety seat though. It was physically impossible for an infant to bust through the seatbelt. Most young children would give up the fight and cry the rest of the way home, but this is never the case for a genius baby.

"Mommy? Daddy? My seatbelt's too tight."

Mr. Descole pulled over the car so that Mrs. Descole could readjust the safety seat. When she unbuckled the seatbelt, little Descole broke loose. He pushed his parents out of the vehicle and drove away.

People on the road were in shock. It was the first time in history that a baby had driven a car! A couple of news vans tried to keep up behind him, but he was too fast. Nobody could stop him now, except for the crossing guard directing traffic in the street.

Descole honked his horn for the guard to move.

"Come on, asshole! We've all got places to be!"

The guard turned around and Descole couldn't believe his eyes. It was Jonathan!

Before Descole could muster any words like, "Do you wanna see me do some donuts?" Jonathan let himself in the van and pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper from his pocket.

"Master, I'm going to need you to follow these directions."

The map was a straight line from one X to another X.

It was strange to be the one driving for a change. Though Descole was an excellent minivan driver, his skills could never outmatch Jonathan and his carriage. Both of them knew this, but Jonathan was humble and complimented Descole on his driving, and even suggested that he should try stick shift some time. Though he often gave him a hard time, Descole liked Jonathan. He was, after all, the only person able to put up with his bullshit.

"Jonathan, how do you know who I am? We've only ever met in the future."

"All will be explained in due time."

The directions followed to a shitty, run-down abandoned movie theater. The place was inches thick of dust and littered with ticket stubs. The only movie title on the signboard was _The Wizard of Oz_, except some cheeky bloke stole and rearranged its letters so it only said "_THE AZZ_."

"Cool. What movie are we going to see?"

Jonathan showed Descole a roll of film he kept hidden in his cross guard vest.

"We're going to see the future."

They grabbed their drinks and popcorn and took their seats. The glass behind the projector cracked when the THX logo played, and then the film began.

"This isn't _Back to the Future_. Fuck this!"

Descole got up to leave. He was nearing the exit when he heard Layton's voice.

"Where are you, Layton? I'm going to rip your head off with my teeth!"

He crawled furiously under the seats to find Layton to teach him a lesson about… Well, he really didn't have a lesson to teach, but he still wanted to rip Layton's head off regardless.

"No one can crawl away from the great Jean Descole! Nothing can divert me from my prey!"

His hand touched a wad of bubblegum underneath one of the seats, and he became stuck to it like glue. It was the heat of the chase, and his only plausible solution was to bite off his arm.

As he was gnawing on his arm, he heard Layton speak again. This time he was saying, "Can you let me out of this fucking cage? I have like, twenty classes to teach right now."

Layton was not in the theater. He was in the film. Thankfully, it wasn't the sex tape he and Layton had made that was playing. This was the future that Jonathan wanted Descole to see, the future that he had run away from.

He paid closer attention to the film. Caged up and looking absolutely pissed off, adult Layton was being held prisoner by the mafia that Descole had several altercations with. There was fire lit around the cage, but these were just very bad special effects that Jonathan wanted to add to the film. Still, Descole couldn't tell.

"Good, they're going to barbeque him. I hope he's delicious."

The film ended with Layton shouting, "HEY! DON'T TOUCH THAT PUZZLE!" and the credits rolled.

**DIRECTOR: JONATHAN**

**PRODUCER: JONATHAN**

**LAYTON: PROFESSOR LAYTON**

**CAGE DONATED BY PETSMART**

**JONATHAN**

Descole didn't clap because he was still stuck to the gum on the floor, but he wouldn't have clapped anyway.

"Master, do you know why I showed this to you?"

"Because you wanted to waste my time?"

"Once your gentleman friend mentioned building a gun with his stolen Thomas the Tank Engine, I knew that something bad was going to happen. I left without notice to hide the money you've illegally obtained in case something were to happen to you. These bad gangster people kidnapped the small male child and now they've kidnapped your gentleman friend! They won't let them go unless they get your money! I could have given them the money when I went to film the video, but I knew that giving up the money would not be in your best interests. We have to save them without giving them money!"

This was a hell of a lot for Descole to take in, but not a hell of enough to make him care.

"I'm a villain now so I could care less. And besides, Layton's not my friend anymore. Now he's just somebody that I used to know."

"If your gentleman friend dies, the puzzle market will take a critical plunge!"

"So?"

"The economy will crash!"

"So?"

"The world will end!"

"Shit, I can't take over the world if there isn't a world to begin with! Release me from this bubblegum trap at once!"

Jonathan picked a couple peanuts out of his pocket and mixed them with the buttered popcorn, inventing peanut butter. He lathered the peanut butter onto Descole's hand, and he was freed.

As they walked back to the minivan, Descole asked Jonathan, "Why does it even matter to save the future if I'm back in the past now? Why is the future still happening?"

Jonathan shook his head.

"Laddie….. You fucked up the universe."


	8. The Villain Jean Descole

**And I thought that last chapter was long. L-O-L. I cut this chapter into three parts so it will be easier to come back to. Wow, I can't believe after 2 years of forgetting to update this story, it's finally come to its end. I'd like to thank my friends from tumblr for convincing me to continue (hi Jackie), you and everyone else who took the time to read this piece of crap and, lastly and most importantly, I'd like to thank the man himself. Thank you Jean Descole for everything you have done. The world would be less beautiful without you.**

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><p><strong>This is not the chapter with the Azran Legacy spoiler ending. If you have already played Azran Legacy or don't mind being massively spoiled, please click on to the next chapter.<strong>

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><p><strong>Part 1<strong>

**Layton's Whereabouts, 1:32 PM**

Puzzles are everywhere. They're in the sky and on the ground. You can find them in between sofa cushions and underneath toilet seats. You probably have a puzzle on your back right now and you don't even know it.

But there's only one man in the world that can truly see all of the puzzles, and he's currently locked up in a pet cage in someone's basement.

"You guys are seriously the least effective mafia ever," Layton complained from his cage. He wasn't feeling threatened or scared, but instead just bored and pissed off.

Stripped of his puzzles, he looked around the room and sighed at the lack of brainteasers. As of then, he could only wait for Descole's rescue.

**Descole and Jonathan's Whereabouts, 1:32 PM**

The universe is a sick fuck for placing the time machine on a cliff. Thankfully, parachutes exist, so the universe is temporarily forgiven.

"_Weeeeeeeeeee! Weeeeeeeeeee!"_

Everybody's favorite two-man team landed safely to the ground. Jonathan's horses were already waiting at the bottom.

Descole would have wondered why Jonathan never appeared to age, but at this point of the story (just like the author and the reader), he didn't care anymore.

"Oh shit, I left my big boy clothes in the time machine. Be right back."

Descole parachuted back up the cliff. Again, who cares anymore?

It was a relief to change into his clothes. He was beginning to get serious diaper rash. Once dressed, he jumped off the cliff and parachuted into Jonathan's carriage.

"Before we rescue your gentleman friend, we must make one very important stop."

"I don't care," Descole crossed his arms. "It-it's not like I want to save him or anything!"

**Layton's Whereabouts 1:33 PM**

There was another man caged up in the basement Layton was imprisoned in. Even if they were in the dark (which they wouldn't be, because the guard is afraid of the dark), Layton still would have been able to see the man's huge ass lips. It was his friendly bank clerk, Ramon. It seems that the mafia never let go of their witness. Who could blame them? He was a hoo-hoo-hoot!

"Pssst. Ramon. Do you have any puzzles?"

"I do! But _señor_, this cage prevents me from reaching across the room to hand them to you!"

"Shit!"

As for Luke, he was no longer being held hostage. He was dropped off safely at his parents' house because the guard could only stand listening to the Duck Tales theme song so many times.

**Descole and Jonathan's Whereabouts, 3:00 PM**

They parked the carriage in a cemetery. Descole recognized the area well. They were at the same cemetery his grandmother was buried in. He couldn't wait to find and disrespect her grave, but Jonathan kept reminding him of their very important stop.

One of the graves stood out among the others. There were no names or words on the stone, just numbers. This was in fact an address. Jonathan pushed the grave to the side. A hidden staircase revealed before them.

"So Pringles!" Descole declared excitedly.

The first thing Descole noticed when they walked down the steps was smoke, lots and lots of smoke. Whoever was down there was smoking up a storm. He hoped they'd see something really cool and illegal down there, but was disappointed when he saw it was just some guy's underground bachelor pad.

"Can't you people knock?"

The graveyard mystery man turned off the TV and lit up a cigarette. The dude had zany hair.

"Master, I'd like you to meet somebody," Jonathan guided Descole inside.

"The name's Don Paolo," said the cigarette man.

"Why do you live here in this cemetery with all of these dead people?" Descole asked.

"Because I died inside a long time ago."

"…."

"…."

Don lit up a second cigarette. He was now smoking two cigarettes at once. It was awesome.

"Anyway, that little green-haired fellow you're traveling with wanted you and me to have a chat about that thing in your pants."

Descole pulled the Thomas toy out of his underwear. As much as he hated the damn thing and the shit storm it brew, he couldn't bear to get rid of it. It was, after all, his only way to operate the time machine again.

"I'm sure you've noticed that your time machine is broken. It has only two destinations, and both destinations alter your age. Do you want to know what's causing these problems?"

"Oh shit. This must be important. I'll listen."

Descole and Jonathan sat down Indian style and listened to the story Don Paolo had to tell.

Thirty-one years ago, a toy factory in London received a shipment of parts for what was going to be the hottest toy of the year. _Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends_ was the biggest children's show on television at the time, and big children's shows mean big money. All other toys in the factory were put on hold during the Thomas hysteria.

A man by the name of Bob Paolo worked in the factory at the time. Mr. Paolo was an excellent toy tinkerer, and all of the other workers looked up to him. Rumors of promotion lingered around the factory, and none of the workers were jealous because they liked Mr. Paolo so much.

One Take Your Kid to Work Day, Bob brought his two year-old son, Don, to the factory. Everybody loved Don, until Don fucked everything up.

When Mr. Paolo wasn't looking, Don climbed onto one of the conveyor belts that moved the finished Thomas toys. Bob had no idea at the time that his son was actually a science baby, and any science baby would be upset to watch little trains all going down the same track. Don knew that real trains change tracks, so he modified the conveyor belt to split into two different directions. Some of the toys went down the usual path, but the ones that went down the new path met a disastrously destination.

Mr. Paolo watched in horror as the Thomas toys fell into a massive container of contaminated radioactive waste. All production was stopped to take care of the mess, but because Thomas and his friends look so alike, some of the contaminated toys were packaged by confused workers and ready for shipment.

Nobody looked up to Mr. Paolo after the incident. Told never to show his face at the factory again, he skipped town. Don never saw his father again.

"So let me get this straight," Descole interjected. "You're saying that this toy I have right here is radioactive, and that this is why my time machine doesn't work?"

Don scratched his head.

"Well yeah, I mean, I guess so. Maybe. Whatever."

"There's just one hole in your story, Don," Descole eyed Don suspiciously as he turned the toy over. "The bottom of this toy says it was made in China."

"China was the name of the factory."

"Oh…Remarkable! Don Paolo, you're a genius!"

The two scientists shook hands. It was a historical moment for science.

"You know, I see something in you," Don pointed at Descole. "Perhaps you're the one who can learn my trick."

"You mean like skateboards?"

"No, it's cooler than a skateboard. I'll be right back!"

Descole was thrilled to bits. What could be cooler than skateboards?!

He and Jonathan waited in the room for Don to come back. They thought they heard Don's footsteps coming from the kitchen, but an old woman walked into the room instead.

"OH SHIT! WE'RE IN GRANDMA'S GRAVE!" Descole shrieked.

The grown baby man cried when his grandmother's corpse ripped the remaining flesh off her face. Except it wasn't his grandmother's corpse – it was Don Paolo in a costume!

"Ha ha! Owned, sucker! This is my trick. I disguise myself as other people! Pretty cool, huh? Here, you give it a try."

Don threw the Grandma costume to Descole, but it proved unnecessary. All Descole had to do was remove his hat, cover it with his face and _voila!_ He had disguised himself to look exactly like his dead grandmother, down to every last mole and wrinkle.

"HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" Don gasped. "You didn't even use the costume!"

"I don't know, but it was pretty cool, right?"

"Actually it kind of makes me feel bad about myself."

This newly acquired skill was perfect for a villain like Descole. It would now be so much easier now to manipulate and fuck with people.

"I'm going to disguise myself as a delivery boy so that I can get all the free pizza in the world without ever going to jail."

"But Master," Jonathan reminded him, "we still need to save the gentleman!"

"God damn it, Jonathan! Why do you always ruin the fun, you fun ruiner?"

To return to his normal form, Descole pulled his hat from behind and put it back on. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but it didn't have to because it was cool.

He turned around to leave with Jonathan, but Don stopped them with a _psst_-block.

"Psst. Can I come with you guys?"

Descole shook his head. "Donny, two's great, but three's a crowd."

"Nah," Don waved it off. "I've got nothing better to do today anyway."

And so Descole, Jonathan, and Don Paolo rode the carriage into the sun. Will they be able to save Layton from that dank basement? You'll find out if you keep reading.

**Part 2**

When the guard called for a nap break, Layton knew it was his best chance to escape. He began communicating with Ramon in morse code to devise a plan.

"Ramon, I have a plan."

"No hablo Inglés."

"Fuck!"

Without Ramon's cooperation, they were back to square one. Layton came up with a puzzle in his head about squares and ones, but puzzles suck when you already know the answer.

"This sucks! Descole's never going to come!"

Actually, Descole was waiting outside of the base in the carriage. Hooray!

"Jonathan, are you serious?" Descole whispered while looking through binoculars. "This doesn't seem criminal at all. It's just somebody's house on a normal street. Look, someone's daughter is coming home from school. Jesus Christ."

"I'd put those binoculars down if I were you," Don suggested. "Have you ever seen _To Catch a Predator_?"

"Okay, I'm going in," Descole announced to the team. He put the binoculars down and climbed out the window.

"Master! Do you have a plan?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't, but maybe one will come to me."

Descole swiftly walked to the house's front door. He was a disguise artist now, so he had to act as unsuspicious as possible. He rang the doorbell and waited.

Down in the basement, the sound of the doorbell woke up the sleeping guard.

"YAWN! What did I miss?" the guard asked himself, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Layton wanted to be funny and say the circus had come to the basement, but his attention was more focused on who was at the front door.

Layton thought_, if it's not Descole, I will eat my own fucking eyeballs._

The guard got up and put on his coat.

"I'm going to the gas station. You want anything?" he asked the prisoners.

"Yeah," answered Layton. "Get me a cup of Earl Grey."

"Earl Grey it is. I'll be right back…Hey, was that chair always there?"

A normal looking wooden chair appeared in the middle of the room. It was definitely not there before.

"It's probably just some paranormal shit," Layton verified. "Has anybody died in this basement?"

"The cat died in the radiator a year ago."

The chair giggled.

"Okay, that was weird," Layton said.

To get a closer look, the guard crept up on the chair. If you've never seen somebody creep up on a chair before, it's pretty ridiculous.

Just before the guard could touch it, the chair transformed into JEAN DESCOLE right in front of their very eyes!

"Aloha, motherfuckers."

Descole pulled a tape recorder out of his pocket and played his new theme music.

"Are you fucking serious?" Layton scoffed. "You have the ability to disguise yourself as anybody in the world, and you choose to be a chair. Break me up a piece of that fucking Kit-Kat bar, Descole."

"Did you bring the money?" the guard asked Descole. He couldn't wait for his shift to be over.

"Yeah, I got your money right here."

He reached into his pocket, grabbed a handful of pocket sand and blew it into the guard's face.

"OW! THAT WASN'T MONEY! I'M CALLING THE BOSS!"

"Oh no you aren't!"

Descole spun around with his leg out and kicked the iPhone out of the guard's hands. The phone landed to the floor and shattered to a million pieces. (This paragraph is not a paid advertisement from the Apple company.) Next, he grabbed the sandy face guard and shoved him into the spare cage that once imprisoned smelly Luke and locked the door.

"Rest in peace, bitch," Descole smiled.

Ramon was the first to be freed from his cage.

"Yahoooooo!" the bank clerk celebrated and performed cartwheels around the room. "You can rob our bank anytime!"

"Layton," Descole spoke with a stern voice as he neared the second cage. "If I let you out, will you rip off my balls?"

"Nah. I had a lot of time to think when I've been in this cage and I realized I would have done the same thing if I was a science baby. That nursery sucked. I don't even like Thomas the Tank Engine anyway.

Layton was freed, and his lips locked with Descole's in a sexy kiss. Ramon was still doing cartwheels around the room.

"Oh, Descole," Layton moaned. "You're so dangerous and evil!"

"As much as I'd love to revel about myself, we have to get going now. Jonathan promised we could have an ice cream party if I saved you."

"I can't wait to make out with you with ice cream on your face, and maybe I can rub some on your private parts as well."

Layton was back to his normal creepy self and all was right for the world. For now.

The two reunited lover dudes rushed to the door with Ramon doing cartwheels behind them.

"All we have to do to open the door is turn the door knob," Descole demonstrated…but the door wouldn't open.

"It's locked from the inside!" he gasped.

"I didn't even know that," the guard said from his cage.

"Descole," Layton shook his head, "how did you even get down here in the first place – Hmm…"

"What is it, Hershel? I order you to speak!" Descole commanded.

"There's a puzzle here. We have to solve it to unlock the door. Good thing I'm a puzzle expert," Layton laughed. "I've probably solved this before…Oh shit."

It looked like Layton had just seen a ghost, but it wasn't the cat that died in the radiator.

"Spit it out with your saliva, Hershel! What is it?!"

Layton took ten deep breaths.

"It's A Duck of Tiles."

"What the hell is taking them so long?" Don complained. "The ice cream's starting to melt!"

"Patience, Sir Paolo," Jonathan shushed. "Have faith in my master. He may appear frail and nimble like a wounded kitten, but he killed a dinosaur once."

The object of A Duck of Tiles is to create the image of a duck by overlapping a limited amount o colored tiles. The tiles cannot be interfered with in anyway. Not a single human being in the world has ever solved A Duck of Tiles. It was almost impossible, but, just like Layton told Descole after they slept with each other, there is no puzzle without a solution.

Sweat dripped down Layton's face and mullet. It was the first time in the history of the planet that the great Professor Layton needed to use a hint coin.

"Descole, reach into my buttocks and grab me a hint coin, why won't you?"

Descole obliged and stuck his hand into Layton's butt pocket. He read the first hint out loud.

"The shape you are trying to create is a duck."

"Well, no shit. That's why it's called A Duck of Tiles," Layton sneered. "Okay, what's the second hint?"

"Umm…You must solve the puzzle."

"Hint three?"

"You will never get this."

Only two hint coins remained in Descole's palms.

"All right," Layton sighed in obvious stress and pain. "Give me the super hint."

"Professor Layton is a nerd."

"AAAAARRRRGH! FUCK THIS DUCK!"

Layton had officially lost it. He picked up all of the tiles and threw them one by one at the door in a fit of rage.

"FUCK THIS TILE! FUCK THAT TILE! FUCK THIS TILE TOO!"

To watch a man break like that was too much for Descole's eyes, so he watched the door instead.

"Holy shit, Hershel. You just solved A Duck of Tiles!"

An image of an adorable yellow duck graced the door in front of them. Layton had overcome his feathered demon. The door unlocked.

"I better get in the newspaper for that shit," Layton mumbled as he opened the door.

As the escapees ran and cart wheeled up the basement steps, Descole reminded them of the game plan.

"Jonathan's carriage is waiting outside. We must hurry if do not want to be seen and also because the ice cream's going to melt."

Despite his ghastly freakish body, Ramon was able to make it out the front door unseen. Layton, however, pulled Descole aside into a bathroom.

"I want to make love to you one more time in this story."

"But the ice cream…"

"Would you rather have ice cream, or THIS?"

Layton removed all his clothing but his top hat in literally a second.

"Hotchy botchy," Descole growled and hopped in the shower with Layton.

They got it on to Beyonce's "Crazy In Love", but halfway through the song, Descole's tape recorder rewound on its own and began playing his theme song on loop for twenty minutes.

"Wow, Descole! That was amazing! Where did you learn to do _that_?"

"The Discovery Channel."

They got dressed, brushed their teeth, stole some condiments from the kitchen (Descole had never tried mustard chocolate ice cream before) and left walking hand in hand to the carriage.

The moment was a romantic one, and Descole couldn't believe how well everything turned out. His booty game was back on, and operation Save the Gentleman Without Paying the Ransom Fee was a success.

Then Don Paolo fucked everything up again.

"Hey! That's the son of a bitch who stole my girlfriend!"

"Uh oh," said Layton.

Don got out of the carriage and stomped up the Layton. His sleeves were rolled, revealing a tattoo that said "I heart Claire" on one arm and "I will never forget when Hershel Layton stole my girlfriend" on the other.

"Save me, Descole!" Layton shrieked and hid behind his man for protection.

Descole didn't want to get hurt so he hid behind Layton.

_POW!_

Don's fist met Layton's teeth for the first time, and it wasn't a very pretty meeting. Descole just stood there, shrugging and mouthing the words, "did you get mint chocolate chip?" to Jonathan.

"It's not my fault that you couldn't satisfy your girl," Layton wiped the blood from his mouth.

"WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

The angry boyfriend fight raged on, and it created quite a ruckus. The commotion caught the attention of everyone hanging out at the mafia base, and they came storming out of the house with guns and other various weapons.

"Now look at what you guys done!" Descole scolded. "You heterosexuals ruin everything!"

Very soon Descole and his friends were surrounded by the henchmen. The one with the biggest gun did the talking.

"You fuckers probably thought you could get away with this. I can't wait to serve your heads on a platter to our boss."

"Oh yeah? Well serve THIS!"

Descole jumped in the air and kicked the henchman's head off. This badassery initiated the hardcore, action packed fight sequence that will be described in the next few paragraphs.

First, Descole dodged gunshot after gunshot by flipping around the lawn with his gymnastic cat like abilities. He was mostly just showing off, but every now and then he'd mess up and kill someone by landing on top of them.

Taking the three things he loved most beside Descole's hot body (puzzles, rocks and tea) Layton devised a deadly method. He offered puzzle at the top of his head to some of the cronies. When they were deep in thought, he picked up a rock and hit them all over the head. For added insult, he poured scalding hot tea over their faces. He also found some razor sharp puzzles on the ground and threw them like ninja stars.

Don's plan was simple, but very effective. He lit up a cigarette and blew smoke into the faces of the mobsters. Some of them couldn't see, and some of them died from secondhand smoke.

Cats, puzzles and cigarettes were nice, but with it came to Ramon, he preferred using his fists. Not only did he have fists made of steel, but his arms were so long that he could punch everyone without even having to get out of the carriage.

Also fighting from the carriage was Jonathan with his many guns. He saved Descole's stupid ass several times: once when a katana wielding gangster snuck up behind Descole when he was looking at a squirrel, and another time when he was tying his shoes.

Even Jonathan's horses, Prancer and Necromancer, got in on the action. It was fucking awesome because the horses were shooting guns.

It was a miracle that none of our protagonists were hurt, but sometimes miracles don't actually happen.

The last standing henchman shot a bullet straight to Jonathan's chest.

"JONATHAN! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Descole yelled and ran in slowmo.

The others took care of the shooter as Descole cradled Jonathan in his arms.

"Please don't die, Jonathan! You're my only butler!"

"I won't die if you take me to the hospital," Jonathan whispered, blood trickling down his suit and his beard.

Descole took note of the sparkly, glittery shine to Jonathan's blood, but now was not the time to ask him if he had been eating glitter glue. Besides, the doctors would be able to find that out anyway.

"Guys, get in the carriage! We must take Jonathan to the hospital A.S.S.!"

They hauled ass to the nearest hospital in London, but because nobody else knew how to drive a carriage, Jonathan took control of the wheel.

"Hey guys," Don said, "check this out. I've always wanted to be a tour guide."

Don grabbed an imaginary microphone and began the tour.

"And to our right is the Elizabeth Tower, housing the most famous bell in the world, Big Ben! The monument was erected in –"

Everyone in the carriage but Don started laughing hysterically after he said "erected." Even though Jonathan was bleeding externally, the mood was bright.

They almost reached the end of the bridge when a black limousine blocked the way in front of them. The fat man, the main villain of this story that isn't Descole, stepped out of his limo.

"It's a pleasure to see you without our money again, Jean Descole."

"What's going on?" Layton squirmed in his seat. "Ramon's lips are blocking my view. Why did we stop?"

"Because the mafia is being a dick again," Descole sighed. "Don, may I borrow your imaginary microphone for a moment?"

"Yeah, but be careful with it," Don warned as he very gently passed the microphone to Descole.

With Don's microphone equipped, Descole was going to give his enemies a piece of his mind. He got out of the carriage and delivered the most beautiful speech anybody has ever heard.

"Mic check, mic check. You know my name, but you don't know my story."

He smiled to himself at how genuine and clever he was.

"I've been through a lot of shit these pasty thirty years and three days, and I'm not talking about that crap Necromancer just made as I was speaking. If I had been through that, my shoes would have been brown. Let's talk about my shoes for a second. These are designer shoes you'll never afford. I'm going to let you walk in my shoes for a minute, but only metaphorically. I'll spray your eyeballs with a hose if you come any closer to my real shoes.

I, the great Jean Descole, have been through Hell and back. I've survived a 5,000 foot fall. I've murdered a dinosaur. I had sex with somebody I knew as a baby for most of my life."

"Wait, how does that constitute as going through Hell-"

"Shut up, Hershel. You're ruining my speech.

Layton frowned and looked at the reader. (That's you!)

"Any god damn way," Descole went on, "I also had to babysit a child. If there's anybody in the world who deserves respect, it's me. And what do you insignificant bastards do? You destroy my castle. You throw rocks at me. You kidnap my ho, and now you're blocking the way to the hospital when my butler's clearly about to die. Why are you making things worse? It's like coming home from school with a bad report card only to have a bird poop on it too. That's what the mafia is – bird poop.

"And what the fuck are you guys doing robbing banks anyway? You're the mafia. Shouldn't you guys be doing cooler mafia things, like playing cards and rolling people up in carpets? No, you go around chasing a twink like me because I hurt your stupid feelings. Get real.

"Long story short, I'm Jean the fuck Descole, and you don't tell me what to do. You want my money? Look up my ass. It's not in there, but now that I've mentioned it you're going to look anyway just to be sure. And that, my friends, is why you are my bitch. Now move, bitch."

Descole took a long bow. If every other passenger on the bridge hadn't turned around to find a detour, they would have all clapped and cheered for him, for at this moment he was a winner.

"Before I check your asshole, there's one thing you need to know about that carriage," said the burn recovering boss.

"Um, it's awesome?"

"No. When you were battling my men in front of our secret base, one of my guys was able to stick a GPS tracker to the back of you carriage, which is how I found you."

"Hip hip for fucking hooray," Descole clapped.

"Not only is there a GPS tracker behind there, but a bomb too. That bomb goes off in three minutes."

Jonathan, Layton, Don and Ramon all got out of the carriage, and the horses were untied for their own safety. (The horses always respond to Jonathan's whistling, so letting them freely roam around the streets of London was no big deal.) They waited for the next three minutes.

Descole's eyes opened wide.

"Shit we forgot the ice -"

_KABOOM!_

Multi flavors of ice cream splattered onto everyone's faces. It was delicious, but a tragedy. Descole cried.

The boss wiped the ice cream off his face with a handkerchief. His eyebrows creased and he wore a nasty frown that replaced his cool mafia demeanor with I-hate-this-French-guy fever.

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE, JEAN DESCOLE?!"

"Ha ha ha! You can't kill me. I'm God."

"No matter," the boss regained his cool. "If I can't kill you, my new assassins will. BORG? SUSAN? GET OUT HERE."

Two giant red lobsters in tuxedos climbed out of the limousine. Descole ran to the edge of the bridge and puked his brains out into the great River Thames.

"Descole, they're only costumes," Layton reassured his man. He began to rub Descole on the back, non-sexually.

"M..memories…"

"Memories of what, Descole? Just speak without vomiting for one second."

"Thirty years ago, my parents brought me to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for supper. We entered the sea food aisle, and that's when I saw those _things_ for the first time.

"I wasn't afraid of them then. I pressed my face against the glass tank and laughed at the things. Their pincers were tied in rubber bands, so I wiggled my fingers around just to mock them. They were hopeless, and it made me sick. They were the prey and I was the hunter. I couldn't wait to eat one for supper.

"By the time we returned home, it was already my naptime. My parents put me in my crib and left to put away the groceries. I fell asleep peacefully like a b.a.m.f., but when I opened my eyes…"

He hurled.

"The thing was in my crib!"

"Maybe we can get you to see a therapist," Layton suggested. "I started seeing one when I believed everyone in this one town were robots. Her name is Granny Rid- OW!"

One of the lobster assassins pinched Layton in the ass.

"OH MY GOD THEY KILLED HERSHEL!" Descole screamed and tried to jump off the bridge. (Layton was still alive; he just had a very sore bottom.)

The assassin named Borg pinched Descole by the cloak and slammed him face first into the ground. Susan got on top of Descole and started pinching him in different parts of his body.

Even though he was a man now, the baby inside Descole (but not in a pregnant way) never left him.

"IT HURTS! IT HURTS! WAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Descole," Layton said with his hand on his butt. "Think, what else happened that night with the lobster – I mean the thing?"

"I cried and I cried and then my dad picked up the thing and he…he threw it into a pot of boiling water!"

A-ha!

Descole kicked Susan in her lobster face and was able to get back on his two feet. He took off his hat, covered it with his face and transformed into a chef.

"Hon hon hon!"

He splashed the lobster people with a pot of really hot water and watched as they shriveled to the ground and cooked. Dinner was served.

"Bon appétit," Descole said and rubbed his thumb with his index finger like all real chefs do before turning back into normal Descole.

"Hey, I taught him that!" Don called out from the sideline.

Between the fact that Descole could not die and the realization that chasing after him for the past three days was proving to be a waste of time, the boss was enraged. He ran at Descole, shouting, "LAAAAAAYTOOOOON!"

Everybody laughed because the boss had confused Descole and Layton's names, but then no one was laughing when he held a gun to Descole's face.

"Tell me where the fucking money is or I'll shoot your pretty European face into smithereens!"

The game was up, except actually it was not.

Descole stared dead cold into the man's eyes and whispered,

"_France is superior to Italy."_

The boss's finger was _thiiiiiiiis_ close to fully pulling the trigger when his and everyone else's attention was distracted elsewhere.

"Yoo hoo!" Ramon peeped. "I forgot to show everyone this flute I found in the bank!"

He brought the flute to his lips (or more so the lips brought the flute to it) and he began to play the tune to "YMCA."

The ground shook and rumbled.

"Now look," Descole said to the boss. "Yo mama's so fat, the bridge is falling apart."

But the rumbling had nothing to do with the boss's mama, and it wasn't collapsing. Something big was coming their way.

A prehistoric roar shook the earth and the nerves of all who heard it. Previously thought of as dead, Loosha the beast had been summoned by the flute.

"Baise-moi," uttered Descole.

The beast slammed the limousine in half with its giant blubbery fins. Retiring from his line of work, the limo driver screamed and ran home.

This day kept getting worse and worse. Loosha's adorable but killer beady eyes recognized Descole.

"PPPWWWWYYYYEEEEH!"

She rampaged across to bridge to finish the job she was meant to do – kill the Jean Descole.

_Not fair I was going to kill him first_ were the last words spoken by the mafia boss before being swallowed whole by the beast. Nothing could stand between Loosha and her prey.

"Oooooh my God. Ooooooh my God," Descole wheezed as he jogged in circles, Loosha on his tail. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry for being such a shit my whole life. It's your fault I was born perfect."

Loosha bit Descole's cloak and it was just about then when Descole realized that maybe the cloak was a bit too much for his outfit. She spun him around in the air so fast that all anybody could make out of Descole were blurry animation smears.

"Master!" Jonathan called out, still dying. "Come over here! I have a gift I must pass down unto thee."  
>"Sure, Jonathan. Let me just politely ask the nice dinosaur if it can put me down."<p>

The always convenient or inconvenient timing of Ramon's actions took play in the situation once again, this time being very convenient. He finished his bottle of Yoo-hoo and tossed it to the ground. Loosha happened to step on top of the shattered pieces of glass. She released Descole's cloak from her grasp when she howled in pain, giving Descole the chance to run over to Jonathan.

"Okay Jonathan, what is it? Jesus Christ, you're bleeding like a turkey."

Jonathan had no idea what that meant, but he passed a long and beautiful sword to Descole. The sword was very sharp and very long, with a black grip and a shiny red bead SuperGlued to its golden guard.

"Cool sword!" Descole gasped. "This is like, one million times Pringles!"

"You've earned it, Master. This sword symbolizes the three important elements – power, wisdom and courage."

"Isn't that the Triforce?"

"No, Master. The Triforce isn't real. Only those who have proved to bear these tree traits can wield the sword. You've displayed tremendous courage today as you rescued your gentleman, faced your fear of lobsters and mocked a man's home country as he held a gun to your face. Your haughty and smug attitude you have over people proves your power, and for wisdom you…Well, I haven't really thought about the wisdom part yet, but I know you can wield this sword!"

"Wow, thanks, Jonathan! I have so many questions to ask you, but first I must take care of business. I'm going to murder Loosha."

He hopped away with the sword in his hand and confronted the blue beast. This shit was getting so real.

"I'm sorry things had to happen like this between us, but then again I'm not sorry because I hate you."

Loosha ferociously roared in Descole's face, but he did not budge. He took his mask off briefly to show Loosha how much he meant business, and oh my God did he mean business.

Before Loosha could make one last pwwyeh noise, Descole jumped into the air and hacked the monster into tiny bits and pieces.

"Who wants sushi?" Descole grinned.

Nobody gave a shit about how cheesy that line was because what Descole just did was the coolest thing anybody has ever done in this world. Move over, Jesus.

"Jean Descole!" Layton swooned and jumped into his man's arms. "You're a hero!"

"Actually, I still want to be a villain."

"Okay, fine, you're a villain. Hooray!"

They kissed in the sunset and everybody cried at how beautiful the moment was.

"I don't even care anymore that Layton stole my girlfriend," Don sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"So now that the mafia's dead, what are you going to do with the money, Descole?" Layton asked kind of gold diggerishly.

"Hmm…I know just the thing," Descole smiled.

"PIZZA ICE CREAM SOCIAL HOSPITAL PARTY!"

What better way to spend millions of stolen money than buying endless amounts of pizza and ice cream? All of our protagonists (Descole, Layton, Don, Ramon, Luke, Clark and Brenda) partied and ice creamed it up in Jonathan's hospital room.

Coincidentally, the evil nursery woman had just recently broken her hip was right next door. Descole managed to climb through the window and lock the door from the inside so none of the doctors or nurses could get in. Even if he wasn't a villain, he would have done it anyway.

"Wow, this party's awesome!" squealed a girl with an adorable ponytail.

"Who the hell are you?" Layton asked the girl.

"I'm your adopted daughter, Flora. I've been with you this entire story, but you never even noticed me."

"Great, you've seen me butt naked with a dick in me. Go get some ice cream, Flowers."

Nobody saw Flora again after that.

Layton turned around and looked at Descole with sad, sad beautiful eyes. Those eyes made Descole want to cry and squeeze a puppy so that the puppy would never grow.

"Descole, must you really go?"

"Yes. In order for the series to make even the slightest amount of sense, I must return to the beginning of it all."

"Will you return my Thomas toy?"

"Probably not, but I will try to bang you again."

Descole grabbed Layton's hands with his hands. It was called holding hands.

"Layton, I want you to move on. I want you to meet a beautiful woman that resembles me, and I want you to have babies. I want you to have at least fifty babies, and I want all of them named after me."

"I promise to have fifty babies," Layton cried and kissed Descole goodbye.

Before he left for good, Descole walked over to Jonathan's bed. Unbeknownst to the others, Descole actually used the rest of his stolen money to buy not only one but TWO new carriages and a real house for Jonathan. No more of that tree house bullshit. Jonathan was family to him, and the only person in the world beside himself that Descole respected.

"Jonathan, you must tell me what the fuck is going on. Who are you really?"

"Laddie," the old man spoke softly and angelically, "you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Master – nay – _Descole_, I am your….fairy godfather."

"COOL!" Descole jumped and high-fived the air.

"I was chosen by the heavens to protect and watch over you. I was there when you nearly plunged to your death, and I was there to entrust you the holy sword that you now call D Slicer. I've always been protecting you, but the gods told me you were a tough case and that I needed to disable my invisibility powers in order to help you. I can also time travel, fly, bleed glitter, and I never age."

"Wow! What a convenient way to cover every plot hole!"

"I also have the ability to heal myself. Look –my wound is completely gone!"

Descole made a comment about not paying the hospital bill and got up to leave.

"Master," Jonathan spoke. "I'm very proud of you. I'll always be with you."

_I'm not crying, I'm not crying_ is all Descole could mutter as he put on his cloak and his boa. He grabbed one last ice cream cone to go and said his final goodbye to his friends, tears and snot dripping from his face.

"I, the great villain and scientist, Jean Descole, am leaving now. Never forget my name. In fact, here's a Sharpie so you can all write it permanently on the back of each other's heads. Farewell. I'll meet you all again in another time"

With that, the great Jean Descole made his exit down the hall.

"WAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAAH!"

A newborn baby was crying in his mother's hospital room.

"Somebody shut that baby up!" a man yelled.

That man was Jean Descole.

**THE END**


	9. The Villain Jean Descole (AL Spoiler)

****And I thought that last chapter was long. L-O-L. I cut this chapter into three parts so it will be easier to come back to. Wow, I can't believe after 2 years of forgetting to update this story, it's finally come to its end. I'd like to thank my friends from tumblr for convincing me to continue (hi Jackie), you and everyone else who took the time to read this piece of crap and, lastly and most importantly, I'd like to thank the man himself. Thank you Jean Descole for everything you have done. The world would be less beautiful without you.****

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><p><strong>WARNING! THIS IS THE CHAPTER WITH THE AZRAN LEGACY SPOILER ENDING! IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED AZRAN LEGACY, PLEASE GO BACK TO CHAPTER EIGHT. HAVE A NICE DAY.<strong>

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><p><strong>Part 1<strong>

**Layton's Whereabouts, 1:32 PM**

Puzzles are everywhere. They're in the sky and on the ground. You can find them in between sofa cushions and underneath toilet seats. You probably have a puzzle on your back right now and you don't even know it.

But there's only one man in the world that can truly see all of the puzzles, and he's currently locked up in a pet cage in someone's basement.

"You guys are seriously the least effective mafia ever," Layton complained from his cage. He wasn't feeling threatened or scared, but instead just bored and pissed off.

Stripped of his puzzles, he looked around the room and sighed at the lack of brainteasers. As of then, he could only wait for Descole's rescue.

**Descole and Jonathan's Whereabouts, 1:32 PM**

The universe is a sick fuck for placing the time machine on a cliff. Thankfully, parachutes exist, so the universe is temporarily forgiven.

"_Weeeeeeeeeee! Weeeeeeeeeee!"_

Everybody's favorite two-man team landed safely to the ground. Jonathan's horses were already waiting at the bottom.

Descole would have wondered why Jonathan never appeared to age, but at this point of the story (just like the author and the reader), he didn't care anymore.

"Oh shit, I left my big boy clothes in the time machine. Be right back."

Descole parachuted back up the cliff. Again, who cares anymore?

It was a relief to change into his clothes. He was beginning to get serious diaper rash. Once dressed, he jumped off the cliff and parachuted into Jonathan's carriage.

"Before we rescue your gentleman friend, we must make one very important stop."

"I don't care," Descole crossed his arms. "It-it's not like I want to save him or anything!"

**Layton's Whereabouts 1:33 PM**

There was another man caged up in the basement Layton was imprisoned in. Even if they were in the dark (which they wouldn't be, because the guard is afraid of the dark), Layton still would have been able to see the man's huge ass lips. It was his friendly bank clerk, Ramon. It seems that the mafia never let go of their witness. Who could blame them? He was a hoo-hoo-hoot!

"Pssst. Ramon. Do you have any puzzles?"

"I do! But _señor_, this cage prevents me from reaching across the room to hand them to you!"

"Shit!"

As for Luke, he was no longer being held hostage. He was dropped off safely at his parents' house because the guard could only stand listening to the Duck Tales theme song so many times.

**Descole and Jonathan's Whereabouts, 3:00 PM**

They parked the carriage in a cemetery. Descole recognized the area well. They were at the same cemetery his grandmother was buried in. He couldn't wait to find and disrespect her grave, but Jonathan kept reminding him of their very important stop.

One of the graves stood out among the others. There were no names or words on the stone, just numbers. This was in fact an address. Jonathan pushed the grave to the side. A hidden staircase revealed before them.

"So Pringles!" Descole declared excitedly.

The first thing Descole noticed when they walked down the steps was smoke, lots and lots of smoke. Whoever was down there was smoking up a storm. He hoped they'd see something really cool and illegal down there, but was disappointed when he saw it was just some guy's underground bachelor pad.

"Can't you people knock?"

The graveyard mystery man turned off the TV and lit up a cigarette. The dude had zany hair.

"Master, I'd like you to meet somebody," Jonathan guided Descole inside.

"The name's Don Paolo," said the cigarette man.

"Why do you live here in this cemetery with all of these dead people?" Descole asked.

"Because I died inside a long time ago."

"…."

"…."

Don lit up a second cigarette. He was now smoking two cigarettes at once. It was awesome.

"Anyway, that little green-haired fellow you're traveling with wanted you and me to have a chat about that thing in your pants."

Descole pulled the Thomas toy out of his underwear. As much as he hated the damn thing and the shit storm it brew, he couldn't bear to get rid of it. It was, after all, his only way to operate the time machine again.

"I'm sure you've noticed that your time machine is broken. It has only two destinations, and both destinations alter your age. Do you want to know what's causing these problems?"

"Oh shit. This must be important. I'll listen."

Descole and Jonathan sat down Indian style and listened to the story Don Paolo had to tell.

Thirty-one years ago, a toy factory in London received a shipment of parts for what was going to be the hottest toy of the year. _Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends_ was the biggest children's show on television at the time, and big children's shows mean big money. All other toys in the factory were put on hold during the Thomas hysteria.

A man by the name of Bob Paolo worked in the factory at the time. Mr. Paolo was an excellent toy tinkerer, and all of the other workers looked up to him. Rumors of promotion lingered around the factory, and none of the workers were jealous because they liked Mr. Paolo so much.

One Take Your Kid to Work Day, Bob brought his two year-old son, Don, to the factory. Everybody loved Don, until Don fucked everything up.

When Mr. Paolo wasn't looking, Don climbed onto one of the conveyor belts that moved the finished Thomas toys. Bob had no idea at the time that his son was actually a science baby, and any science baby would be upset to watch little trains all going down the same track. Don knew that real trains change tracks, so he modified the conveyor belt to split into two different directions. Some of the toys went down the usual path, but the ones that went down the new path met a disastrously destination.

Mr. Paolo watched in horror as the Thomas toys fell into a massive container of contaminated radioactive waste. All production was stopped to take care of the mess, but because Thomas and his friends look so alike, some of the contaminated toys were packaged by confused workers and ready for shipment.

Nobody looked up to Mr. Paolo after the incident. Told never to show his face at the factory again, he skipped town. Don never saw his father again.

"So let me get this straight," Descole interjected. "You're saying that this toy I have right here is radioactive, and that this is why my time machine doesn't work?"

Don scratched his head.

"Well yeah, I mean, I guess so. Maybe. Whatever."

"There's just one hole in your story, Don," Descole eyed Don suspiciously as he turned the toy over. "The bottom of this toy says it was made in China."

"China was the name of the factory."

"Oh…Remarkable! Don Paolo, you're a genius!"

The two scientists shook hands. It was a historical moment for science.

"You know, I see something in you," Don pointed at Descole. "Perhaps you're the one who can learn my trick."

"You mean like skateboards?"

"No, it's cooler than a skateboard. I'll be right back!"

Descole was thrilled to bits. What could be cooler than skateboards?!

He and Jonathan waited in the room for Don to come back. They thought they heard Don's footsteps coming from the kitchen, but an old woman walked into the room instead.

"OH SHIT! WE'RE IN GRANDMA'S GRAVE!" Descole shrieked.

The grown baby man cried when his grandmother's corpse ripped the remaining flesh off her face. Except it wasn't his grandmother's corpse – it was Don Paolo in a costume!

"Ha ha! Owned, sucker! This is my trick. I disguise myself as other people! Pretty cool, huh? Here, you give it a try."

Don threw the Grandma costume to Descole, but it proved unnecessary. All Descole had to do was remove his hat, cover it with his face and _voila!_ He had disguised himself to look exactly like his dead grandmother, down to every last mole and wrinkle.

"HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" Don gasped. "You didn't even use the costume!"

"I don't know, but it was pretty cool, right?"

"Actually it kind of makes me feel bad about myself."

This newly acquired skill was perfect for a villain like Descole. It would now be so much easier now to manipulate and fuck with people.

"I'm going to disguise myself as a delivery boy so that I can get all the free pizza in the world without ever going to jail."

"But Master," Jonathan reminded him, "we still need to save the gentleman!"

"God damn it, Jonathan! Why do you always ruin the fun, you fun ruiner?"

To return to his normal form, Descole pulled his hat from behind and put it back on. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but it didn't have to because it was cool.

He turned around to leave with Jonathan, but Don stopped them with a _psst_-block.

"Psst. Can I come with you guys?"

Descole shook his head. "Donny, two's great, but three's a crowd."

"Nah," Don waved it off. "I've got nothing better to do today anyway."

And so Descole, Jonathan, and Don Paolo rode the carriage into the sun. Will they be able to save Layton from that dank basement? You'll find out if you keep reading.

**Part 2**

When the guard called for a nap break, Layton knew it was his best chance to escape. He began communicating with Ramon in morse code to devise a plan.

"Ramon, I have a plan."

"No hablo Inglés."

"Fuck!"

Without Ramon's cooperation, they were back to square one. Layton came up with a puzzle in his head about squares and ones, but puzzles suck when you already know the answer.

"This sucks! Descole's never going to come!"

Actually, Descole was waiting outside of the base in the carriage. Hooray!

"Jonathan, are you serious?" Descole whispered while looking through binoculars. "This doesn't seem criminal at all. It's just somebody's house on a normal street. Look, someone's daughter is coming home from school. Jesus Christ."

"I'd put those binoculars down if I were you," Don suggested. "Have you ever seen _To Catch a Predator_?"

"Okay, I'm going in," Descole announced to the team. He put the binoculars down and climbed out the window.

"Master! Do you have a plan?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't, but maybe one will come to me."

Descole swiftly walked to the house's front door. He was a disguise artist now, so he had to act as unsuspicious as possible. He rang the doorbell and waited.

Down in the basement, the sound of the doorbell woke up the sleeping guard.

"YAWN! What did I miss?" the guard asked himself, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Layton wanted to be funny and say the circus had come to the basement, but his attention was more focused on who was at the front door.

Layton thought_, if it's not Descole, I will eat my own fucking eyeballs._

The guard got up and put on his coat.

"I'm going to the gas station. You want anything?" he asked the prisoners.

"Yeah," answered Layton. "Get me a cup of Earl Grey."

"Earl Grey it is. I'll be right back…Hey, was that chair always there?"

A normal looking wooden chair appeared in the middle of the room. It was definitely not there before.

"It's probably just some paranormal shit," Layton verified. "Has anybody died in this basement?"

"The cat died in the radiator a year ago."

The chair giggled.

"Okay, that was weird," Layton said.

To get a closer look, the guard crept up on the chair. If you've never seen somebody creep up on a chair before, it's pretty ridiculous.

Just before the guard could touch it, the chair transformed into JEAN DESCOLE right in front of their very eyes!

"Aloha, motherfuckers."

Descole pulled a tape recorder out of his pocket and played his new theme music.

"Are you fucking serious?" Layton scoffed. "You have the ability to disguise yourself as anybody in the world, and you choose to be a chair. Break me up a piece of that fucking Kit-Kat bar, Descole."

"Did you bring the money?" the guard asked Descole. He couldn't wait for his shift to be over.

"Yeah, I got your money right here."

He reached into his pocket, grabbed a handful of pocket sand and blew it into the guard's face.

"OW! THAT WASN'T MONEY! I'M CALLING THE BOSS!"

"Oh no you aren't!"

Descole spun around with his leg out and kicked the iPhone out of the guard's hands. The phone landed to the floor and shattered to a million pieces. (This paragraph is not a paid advertisement from the Apple company.) Next, he grabbed the sandy face guard and shoved him into the spare cage that once imprisoned smelly Luke and locked the door.

"Rest in peace, bitch," Descole smiled.

Ramon was the first to be freed from his cage.

"Yahoooooo!" the bank clerk celebrated and performed cartwheels around the room. "You can rob our bank anytime!"

"Layton," Descole spoke with a stern voice as he neared the second cage. "If I let you out, will you rip off my balls?"

"Nah. I had a lot of time to think when I've been in this cage and I realized I would have done the same thing if I was a science baby. That nursery sucked. I don't even like Thomas the Tank Engine anyway.

Layton was freed, and his lips locked with Descole's in a sexy kiss. Ramon was still doing cartwheels around the room.

"Oh, Descole," Layton moaned. "You're so dangerous and evil!"

"As much as I'd love to revel about myself, we have to get going now. Jonathan promised we could have an ice cream party if I saved you."

"I can't wait to make out with you with ice cream on your face, and maybe I can rub some on your private parts as well."

Layton was back to his normal creepy self and all was right for the world. For now.

The two reunited lover dudes rushed to the door with Ramon doing cartwheels behind them.

"All we have to do to open the door is turn the door knob," Descole demonstrated…but the door wouldn't open.

"It's locked from the inside!" he gasped.

"I didn't even know that," the guard said from his cage.

"Descole," Layton shook his head, "how did you even get down here in the first place – Hmm…"

"What is it, Hershel? I order you to speak!" Descole commanded.

"There's a puzzle here. We have to solve it to unlock the door. Good thing I'm a puzzle expert," Layton laughed. "I've probably solved this before…Oh shit."

It looked like Layton had just seen a ghost, but it wasn't the cat that died in the radiator.

"Spit it out with your saliva, Hershel! What is it?!"

Layton took ten deep breaths.

"It's A Duck of Tiles."

"What the hell is taking them so long?" Don complained. "The ice cream's starting to melt!"

"Patience, Sir Paolo," Jonathan shushed. "Have faith in my master. He may appear frail and nimble like a wounded kitten, but he killed a dinosaur once."

The object of A Duck of Tiles is to create the image of a duck by overlapping a limited amount o colored tiles. The tiles cannot be interfered with in anyway. Not a single human being in the world has ever solved A Duck of Tiles. It was almost impossible, but, just like Layton told Descole after they slept with each other, there is no puzzle without a solution.

Sweat dripped down Layton's face and mullet. It was the first time in the history of the planet that the great Professor Layton needed to use a hint coin.

"Descole, reach into my buttocks and grab me a hint coin, why won't you?"

Descole obliged and stuck his hand into Layton's butt pocket. He read the first hint out loud.

"The shape you are trying to create is a duck."

"Well, no shit. That's why it's called A Duck of Tiles," Layton sneered. "Okay, what's the second hint?"

"Umm…You must solve the puzzle."

"Hint three?"

"You will never get this."

Only two hint coins remained in Descole's palms.

"All right," Layton sighed in obvious stress and pain. "Give me the super hint."

"Professor Layton is a nerd."

"AAAAARRRRGH! FUCK THIS DUCK!"

Layton had officially lost it. He picked up all of the tiles and threw them one by one at the door in a fit of rage.

"FUCK THIS TILE! FUCK THAT TILE! FUCK THIS TILE TOO!"

To watch a man break like that was too much for Descole's eyes, so he watched the door instead.

"Holy shit, Hershel. You just solved A Duck of Tiles!"

An image of an adorable yellow duck graced the door in front of them. Layton had overcome his feathered demon. The door unlocked.

"I better get in the newspaper for that shit," Layton mumbled as he opened the door.

As the escapees ran and cart wheeled up the basement steps, Descole reminded them of the game plan.

"Jonathan's carriage is waiting outside. We must hurry if do not want to be seen and also because the ice cream's going to melt."

Despite his ghastly freakish body, Ramon was able to make it out the front door unseen. Layton, however, pulled Descole aside into a bathroom.

"I want to make love to you one more time in this story."

"But the ice cream…"

"Would you rather have ice cream, or THIS?"

Layton removed all his clothing but his top hat in literally a second.

"Hotchy botchy," Descole growled and hopped in the shower with Layton.

They got it on to Beyonce's "Crazy In Love", but halfway through the song, Descole's tape recorder rewound on its own and began playing his theme song on loop for twenty minutes.

"Wow, Descole! That was amazing! Where did you learn to do _that_?"

"The Discovery Channel."

They got dressed, brushed their teeth, stole some condiments from the kitchen (Descole had never tried mustard chocolate ice cream before) and left walking hand in hand to the carriage.

The moment was a romantic one, and Descole couldn't believe how well everything turned out. His booty game was back on, and operation Save the Gentleman Without Paying the Ransom Fee was a success.

Then Don Paolo fucked everything up again.

"Hey! That's the son of a bitch who stole my girlfriend!"

"Uh oh," said Layton.

Don got out of the carriage and stomped up the Layton. His sleeves were rolled, revealing a tattoo that said "I heart Claire" on one arm and "I will never forget when Hershel Layton stole my girlfriend" on the other.

"Save me, Descole!" Layton shrieked and hid behind his man for protection.

Descole didn't want to get hurt so he hid behind Layton.

_POW!_

Don's fist met Layton's teeth for the first time, and it wasn't a very pretty meeting. Descole just stood there, shrugging and mouthing the words, "did you get mint chocolate chip?" to Jonathan.

"It's not my fault that you couldn't satisfy your girl," Layton wiped the blood from his mouth.

"WHY YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

The angry boyfriend fight raged on, and it created quite a ruckus. The commotion caught the attention of everyone hanging out at the mafia base, and they came storming out of the house with guns and other various weapons.

"Now look at what you guys done!" Descole scolded. "You heterosexuals ruin everything!"

Very soon Descole and his friends were surrounded by the henchmen. The one with the biggest gun did the talking.

"You fuckers probably thought you could get away with this. I can't wait to serve your heads on a platter to our boss."

"Oh yeah? Well serve THIS!"

Descole jumped in the air and kicked the henchman's head off. This badassery initiated the hardcore, action packed fight sequence that will be described in the next few paragraphs.

First, Descole dodged gunshot after gunshot by flipping around the lawn with his gymnastic cat like abilities. He was mostly just showing off, but every now and then he'd mess up and kill someone by landing on top of them.

Taking the three things he loved most beside Descole's hot body (puzzles, rocks and tea) Layton devised a deadly method. He offered puzzle at the top of his head to some of the cronies. When they were deep in thought, he picked up a rock and hit them all over the head. For added insult, he poured scalding hot tea over their faces. He also found some razor sharp puzzles on the ground and threw them like ninja stars.

Don's plan was simple, but very effective. He lit up a cigarette and blew smoke into the faces of the mobsters. Some of them couldn't see, and some of them died from secondhand smoke.

Cats, puzzles and cigarettes were nice, but with it came to Ramon, he preferred using his fists. Not only did he have fists made of steel, but his arms were so long that he could punch everyone without even having to get out of the carriage.

Also fighting from the carriage was Jonathan with his many guns. He saved Descole's stupid ass several times: once when a katana wielding gangster snuck up behind Descole when he was looking at a squirrel, and another time when he was tying his shoes.

Even Jonathan's horses, Prancer and Necromancer, got in on the action. It was fucking awesome because the horses were shooting guns.

It was a miracle that none of our protagonists were hurt, but sometimes miracles don't actually happen.

The last standing henchman shot a bullet straight to Jonathan's chest.

"JONATHAN! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Descole yelled and ran in slowmo.

The others took care of the shooter as Descole cradled Jonathan in his arms.

"Please don't die, Jonathan! You're my only butler!"

"I won't die if you take me to the hospital," Jonathan whispered, blood trickling down his suit and his beard.

Descole took note of the sparkly, glittery shine to Jonathan's blood, but now was not the time to ask him if he had been eating glitter glue. Besides, the doctors would be able to find that out anyway.

"Guys, get in the carriage! We must take Jonathan to the hospital A.S.S.!"

They hauled ass to the nearest hospital in London, but because nobody else knew how to drive a carriage, Jonathan took control of the wheel.

"Hey guys," Don said, "check this out. I've always wanted to be a tour guide."

Don grabbed an imaginary microphone and began the tour.

"And to our right is the Elizabeth Tower, housing the most famous bell in the world, Big Ben! The monument was erected in –"

Everyone in the carriage but Don started laughing hysterically after he said "erected." Even though Jonathan was bleeding externally, the mood was bright.

They almost reached the end of the bridge when a black limousine blocked the way in front of them. The fat man, the main villain of this story that isn't Descole, stepped out of his limo.

"It's a pleasure to see you without our money again, Jean Descole."

"What's going on?" Layton squirmed in his seat. "Ramon's lips are blocking my view. Why did we stop?"

"Because the mafia is being a dick again," Descole sighed. "Don, may I borrow your imaginary microphone for a moment?"

"Yeah, but be careful with it," Don warned as he very gently passed the microphone to Descole.

With Don's microphone equipped, Descole was going to give his enemies a piece of his mind. He got out of the carriage and delivered the most beautiful speech anybody has ever heard.

"Mic check, mic check. You know my name, but you don't know my story."

He smiled to himself at how genuine and clever he was.

"I've been through a lot of shit these pasty thirty years and three days, and I'm not talking about that crap Necromancer just made as I was speaking. If I had been through that, my shoes would have been brown. Let's talk about my shoes for a second. These are designer shoes you'll never afford. I'm going to let you walk in my shoes for a minute, but only metaphorically. I'll spray your eyeballs with a hose if you come any closer to my real shoes.

I, the great Jean Descole, have been through Hell and back. I've survived a 5,000 foot fall. I've murdered a dinosaur. I had sex with somebody I knew as a baby for most of my life."

"Wait, how does that constitute as going through Hell-"

"Shut up, Hershel. You're ruining my speech.

Layton frowned and looked at the reader. (That's you!)

"Any god damn way," Descole went on, "I also had to babysit a child. If there's anybody in the world who deserves respect, it's me. And what do you insignificant bastards do? You destroy my castle. You throw rocks at me. You kidnap my ho, and now you're blocking the way to the hospital when my butler's clearly about to die. Why are you making things worse? It's like coming home from school with a bad report card only to have a bird poop on it too. That's what the mafia is – bird poop.

"And what the fuck are you guys doing robbing banks anyway? You're the mafia. Shouldn't you guys be doing cooler mafia things, like playing cards and rolling people up in carpets? No, you go around chasing a twink like me because I hurt your stupid feelings. Get real.

"Long story short, I'm Jean the fuck Descole, and you don't tell me what to do. You want my money? Look up my ass. It's not in there, but now that I've mentioned it you're going to look anyway just to be sure. And that, my friends, is why you are my bitch. Now move, bitch."

Descole took a long bow. If every other passenger on the bridge hadn't turned around to find a detour, they would have all clapped and cheered for him, for at this moment he was a winner.

"Before I check your asshole, there's one thing you need to know about that carriage," said the burn recovering boss.

"Um, it's awesome?"

"No. When you were battling my men in front of our secret base, one of my guys was able to stick a GPS tracker to the back of you carriage, which is how I found you."

"Hip hip for fucking hooray," Descole clapped.

"Not only is there a GPS tracker behind there, but a bomb too. That bomb goes off in three minutes."

Jonathan, Layton, Don and Ramon all got out of the carriage, and the horses were untied for their own safety. (The horses always respond to Jonathan's whistling, so letting them freely roam around the streets of London was no big deal.) They waited for the next three minutes.

Descole's eyes opened wide.

"Shit we forgot the ice -"

_KABOOM!_

Multi flavors of ice cream splattered onto everyone's faces. It was delicious, but a tragedy. Descole cried.

The boss wiped the ice cream off his face with a handkerchief. His eyebrows creased and he wore a nasty frown that replaced his cool mafia demeanor with I-hate-this-French-guy fever.

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE, JEAN DESCOLE?!"

"Ha ha ha! You can't kill me. I'm God."

"No matter," the boss regained his cool. "If I can't kill you, my new assassins will. BORG? SUSAN? GET OUT HERE."

Two giant red lobsters in tuxedos climbed out of the limousine. Descole ran to the edge of the bridge and puked his brains out into the great River Thames.

"Descole, they're only costumes," Layton reassured his man. He began to rub Descole on the back, non-sexually.

"M..memories…"

"Memories of what, Descole? Just speak without vomiting for one second."

"Thirty years ago, my parents brought me to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for supper. We entered the sea food aisle, and that's when I saw those _things_ for the first time.

"I wasn't afraid of them then. I pressed my face against the glass tank and laughed at the things. Their pincers were tied in rubber bands, so I wiggled my fingers around just to mock them. They were hopeless, and it made me sick. They were the prey and I was the hunter. I couldn't wait to eat one for supper.

"By the time we returned home, it was already my naptime. My parents put me in my crib and left to put away the groceries. I fell asleep peacefully like a b.a.m.f., but when I opened my eyes…"

He hurled.

"The thing was in my crib!"

"Maybe we can get you to see a therapist," Layton suggested. "I started seeing one when I believed everyone in this one town were robots. Her name is Granny Rid- OW!"

One of the lobster assassins pinched Layton in the ass.

"OH MY GOD THEY KILLED HERSHEL!" Descole screamed and tried to jump off the bridge. (Layton was still alive; he just had a very sore bottom.)

The assassin named Borg pinched Descole by the cloak and slammed him face first into the ground. Susan got on top of Descole and started pinching him in different parts of his body.

Even though he was a man now, the baby inside Descole (but not in a pregnant way) never left him.

"IT HURTS! IT HURTS! WAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Descole," Layton said with his hand on his butt. "Think, what else happened that night with the lobster – I mean the thing?"

"I cried and I cried and then my dad picked up the thing and he…he threw it into a pot of boiling water!"

A-ha!

Descole kicked Susan in her lobster face and was able to get back on his two feet. He took off his hat, covered it with his face and transformed into a chef.

"Hon hon hon!"

He splashed the lobster people with a pot of really hot water and watched as they shriveled to the ground and cooked. Dinner was served.

"Bon appétit," Descole said and rubbed his thumb with his index finger like all real chefs do before turning back into normal Descole.

"Hey, I taught him that!" Don called out from the sideline.

Between the fact that Descole could not die and the realization that chasing after him for the past three days was proving to be a waste of time, the boss was enraged. He ran at Descole, shouting, "LAAAAAAYTOOOOON!"

Everybody laughed because the boss had confused Descole and Layton's names, but then no one was laughing when he held a gun to Descole's face.

"Tell me where the fucking money is or I'll shoot your pretty European face into smithereens!"

The game was up, except actually it was not.

Descole stared dead cold into the man's eyes and whispered,

"_France is superior to Italy."_

The boss's finger was _thiiiiiiiis_ close to fully pulling the trigger when his and everyone else's attention was distracted elsewhere.

"Yoo hoo!" Ramon peeped. "I forgot to show everyone this flute I found in the bank!"

He brought the flute to his lips (or more so the lips brought the flute to it) and he began to play the tune to "YMCA."

The ground shook and rumbled.

"Now look," Descole said to the boss. "Yo mama's so fat, the bridge is falling apart."

But the rumbling had nothing to do with the boss's mama, and it wasn't collapsing. Something big was coming their way.

A prehistoric roar shook the earth and the nerves of all who heard it. Previously thought of as dead, Loosha the beast had been summoned by the flute.

"Baise-moi," uttered Descole.

The beast slammed the limousine in half with its giant blubbery fins. Retiring from his line of work, the limo driver screamed and ran home.

This day kept getting worse and worse. Loosha's adorable but killer beady eyes recognized Descole.

"PPPWWWWYYYYEEEEH!"

She rampaged across to bridge to finish the job she was meant to do – kill the Jean Descole.

_Not fair I was going to kill him first_ were the last words spoken by the mafia boss before being swallowed whole by the beast. Nothing could stand between Loosha and her prey.

"Oooooh my God. Ooooooh my God," Descole wheezed as he jogged in circles, Loosha on his tail. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry for being such a shit my whole life. It's your fault I was born perfect."

Loosha bit Descole's cloak and it was just about then when Descole realized that maybe the cloak was a bit too much for his outfit. She spun him around in the air so fast that all anybody could make out of Descole were blurry animation smears.

"Master!" Jonathan called out, still dying. "Come over here! I have a gift I must pass down unto thee."  
>"Sure, Jonathan. Let me just politely ask the nice dinosaur if it can put me down."<p>

The always convenient or inconvenient timing of Ramon's actions took play in the situation once again, this time being very convenient. He finished his bottle of Yoo-hoo and tossed it to the ground. Loosha happened to step on top of the shattered pieces of glass. She released Descole's cloak from her grasp when she howled in pain, giving Descole the chance to run over to Jonathan.

"Okay Jonathan, what is it? Jesus Christ, you're bleeding like a turkey."

Jonathan had no idea what that meant, but he passed a long and beautiful sword to Descole. The sword was very sharp and very long, with a black grip and a shiny red bead SuperGlued to its golden guard.

"Cool sword!" Descole gasped. "This is like, one million times Pringles!"

"You've earned it, Master. This sword symbolizes the three important elements – power, wisdom and courage."

"Isn't that the Triforce?"

"No, Master. The Triforce isn't real. Only those who have proved to bear these tree traits can wield the sword. You've displayed tremendous courage today as you rescued your gentleman, faced your fear of lobsters and mocked a man's home country as he held a gun to your face. Your haughty and smug attitude you have over people proves your power, and for wisdom you…Well, I haven't really thought about the wisdom part yet, but I know you can wield this sword!"

"Wow, thanks, Jonathan! I have so many questions to ask you, but first I must take care of business. I'm going to murder Loosha."

He hopped away with the sword in his hand and confronted the blue beast. This shit was getting so real.

"I'm sorry things had to happen like this between us, but then again I'm not sorry because I hate you."

Loosha ferociously roared in Descole's face, but he did not budge. He took his mask off briefly to show Loosha how much he meant business, and oh my God did he mean business.

Before Loosha could make one last pwwyeh noise, Descole jumped into the air and hacked the monster into tiny bits and pieces.

"Who wants sushi?" Descole grinned.

Nobody gave a shit about how cheesy that line was because what Descole just did was the coolest thing anybody has ever done in this world. Move over, Jesus.

"Jean Descole!" Layton swooned and jumped into his man's arms. "You're a hero!"

"Actually, I still want to be a villain."

"Okay, fine, you're a villain. Hooray!"

They kissed in the sunset and everybody cried at how beautiful the moment was.

"I don't even care anymore that Layton stole my girlfriend," Don sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"So now that the mafia's dead, what are you going to do with the money, Descole?" Layton asked kind of gold diggerishly.

"Hmm…I know just the thing," Descole smiled.

"PIZZA ICE CREAM SOCIAL HOSPITAL PARTY!"

What better way to spend millions of stolen money than buying endless amounts of pizza and ice cream? All of our protagonists (Descole, Layton, Don, Ramon, Luke, Clark and Brenda) partied and ice creamed it up in Jonathan's hospital room.

Coincidentally, the evil nursery woman had just recently broken her hip was right next door. Descole managed to climb through the window and lock the door from the inside so none of the doctors or nurses could get in. Even if he wasn't a villain, he would have done it anyway.

"Wow, this party's awesome!" squealed a girl with an adorable ponytail.

"Who the hell are you?" Layton asked the girl.

"I'm your adopted daughter, Flora. I've been with you this entire story, but you never even noticed me."

"Great, you've seen me butt naked with a dick in me. Go get some ice cream, Flowers."

Nobody saw Flora again after that.

Layton turned around and looked at Descole with sad, sad beautiful eyes. Those eyes made Descole want to cry and squeeze a puppy so that the puppy would never grow.

"Descole, must you really go?"

"Yes. In order for the series to make even the slightest amount of sense, I must return to the beginning of it all."

"Will you return my Thomas toy?"

"Probably not, but I will try to bang you again."

Descole grabbed Layton's hands with his hands. It was called holding hands.

"Layton, I want you to move on. I want you to meet a beautiful woman that resembles me, and I want you to have babies. I want you to have at least fifty babies, and I want all of them named after me."

"I promise to have fifty babies," Layton cried and kissed Descole goodbye.

Before he left for good, Descole walked over to Jonathan's bed. Unbeknownst to the others, Descole actually used the rest of his stolen money to buy not only one but TWO new carriages and a real house for Jonathan. No more of that tree house bullshit. Jonathan was family to him, and the only person in the world beside himself that Descole respected.

"Jonathan, you must tell me what the fuck is going on. Who are you really?"

"Laddie," the old man spoke softly and angelically, "you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Master – nay – _Descole_, I am your….fairy godfather."

"COOL!" Descole jumped and high-fived the air.

"I was chosen by the heavens to protect and watch over you. I was there when you nearly plunged to your death, and I was there to entrust you the holy sword that you now call D Slicer. I've always been protecting you, but the gods told me you were a tough case and that I needed to disable my invisibility powers in order to help you. I can also time travel, fly, bleed glitter, and I never age."

"Wow! What a convenient way to cover every plot hole!"

"I also have the ability to heal myself. Look –my wound is completely gone!"

Descole made a comment about not paying the hospital bill and got up to leave.

"Master," Jonathan spoke. "I'm very proud of you. I'll always be with you."

_I'm not crying, I'm not crying_ is all Descole could mutter as he put on his cloak and his boa. He grabbed one last ice cream cone to go and said his final goodbye to his friends, tears and snot dripping from his face.

"I, the great villain and scientist, Jean Descole, am leaving now. Never forget my name. In fact, here's a Sharpie so you can all write it permanently on the back of each other's heads. Farewell. I'll meet you all again in another time"

With that, the great Jean Descole made his exit down the hall.

"WAAAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAAAAH!"

A newborn baby was crying in his mother's hospital room.

"Somebody shut that baby up!" a man yelled.

That man was Jean Descole.

"Master?" Jonathan called out from his room.

"Yes, Jonathan?"

"I forgot to tell you that you and Professor Layton are brothers."

Descole dropped his ice cream cone.

"What?"

**THE END**


End file.
